


paper thin

by mikeandwill



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied abuse, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, New Kid AU, Period-Typical Homophobia, abuse mention, gay will, pan mike, tags will change, the party is a group of gays
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-03-26 03:48:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 62,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13849452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikeandwill/pseuds/mikeandwill
Summary: At the start of senior year, Will Byers makes a promise to himself in front of his friends, that he isn’t going to get involved with any boys until college; and he doesn’t.That is, until Mike Wheeler shows up.





	1. me and michael

Will Byers didn’t ask for much. 

He never did, he was always far too polite to even ask his mother for a few dollars. When he did, he’d promise her over and over that he would pay her back; despite her reminding him that it was perfectly okay. Will didn’t like to ask for things, but eventually, he realised that he didn’t have something that he deserved.

At this point, Will realised that waiting for certain things to happen could feel like a lifetime. Even if he didn’t think about it all the time, it was always in the back of his head; like a constant flicker of a flame. Eventually, it would either burn out and go cold, or it would be ignited and transformed into a great fire… a great, burning fire that he’d waited so long for. He’d never want that to go out. Especially if that fire was finding the person that meant a lot to him, like more than anyone had ever meant to him in his entire life. But as everyone knew, with fire, came smoke; sometimes a black, thick smoke. So you can never really see the truth, not until you’re told. 

For Will, his fire started to grow in the September of 1988, when Mike Wheeler got transferred to Hawkins High School.

But  _ boy _ , did he bring a lot of smoke. 

“Will! You still coming to the arcade later?” Max asked, a fiery girl with ginger hair who was Will’s closest friend, falling into step with him as he walked down the long school hallway. People were stood at their lockers, grabbing various books that they needed and replacing them with the ones that they didn’t. Will could just tell they all wished to be anywhere but there, and he understood that, but couldn’t relate. Will always had an urge to learn, and he even liked to teach others if he could. It made him feel good about himself. 

Will pulled at his backpack strap, turning to look at Max who was now walking beside him. She carried her skateboard under her arm like she always did. She’d even attempted to teach Will multiple times, but it would never go well. “Yeah, as always.”

Will’s confirmation made the biggest smile appear on Max’s face, even though she knew he was going to say yes anyway. They hung out at the arcade all the time, that was where most of their money was spent. Sometimes Dustin, Lucas and El would join them. The five of them were considered a group, after all; but it had always been  _ Will and Max. _ They knew pretty much everything about each other, and they trusted each other more than anyone. They always had, even the others knew that despite them all being pretty close friends. 

“Good, because I’ve been working on Space Invaders and I think I’ve got it down. I’m so gonna beat your ass-” Max started rambling excitedly, and Will scrunched his eyebrows together in thought. 

“Okay, one… you’ve been secretly practicing without me? And two… why Space Invaders? Why not any of the new ones they literally installed last week?” Will questioned. He and Max had agreed to never practice without each other because otherwise that wouldn’t be fair, obviously Max had gone against that. Come to think of it, she was the most competitive person Will had ever met. 

Max groaned and then walked in front of Will, stopping by her locker. Will was forced to stop too since she literally stood in front of him and plus, he was going to wait for her anyway. Like he always did. “Come on, Will. I had nothing to do, and you were busy.” She opened her locker and plucked out a moderately thick textbook. “Plus, I wanted a change, who cares if it’s one of the older ones? It’s great because there’s literally no one on it, I had it to myself for  _ hours _ .” 

Max didn’t notice the raised eyebrow and the look Will was giving her until she had finished her sentence. “Hours, huh?” 

“Stop looking at me like that, Will!”

“What? I’m not looking at you like anything.” Will shrugged as if he had no idea what she was talking about. 

“You are.” Max playfully rolled her eyes, slamming her locker shut. “Anyway, you better not abandon me now that summer is over. I know school is important and everything but it’s not  _ that _ important.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Will nodded, somewhat dismissively. 

Anything that Max said after that was drowned out. Will knew she was talking to him but he didn’t have a clue as to what she was talking about, it went straight over his head; because he saw someone he didn’t recognise across the hall. He scrunched his eyebrows as he tried to get a better look at them, and obviously Max hadn’t noticed Will’s mind had drifted far away from the arcade at this point, so she just kept talking as Will moved his head every time someone would step in the way of his view. 

It was a boy, and he was facing his open locker so Will could only see the back of him. He noticed his lanky build, the oversized sweater that he was wearing and he had extremely dark hair that was a mess of curls. He caught Will’s eye because he’d never seen him before, and Will had always thought that even if he didn’t know everyone in the school personally, he’d recognise them in the hallways. This boy he didn’t recognise, so he assumed he must be new. He was intrigued to say the least.

He saw a hand wave in front of his face, disrupting his view. “Will? Are you listening?” 

“What?” He said subconsciously, not even bothering to turn his attention to Max. It was like he was in some sort of daze, and he hadn’t even seen this person’s face yet. 

“What  _ are _ you looking at?” She asked, trying to follow Will’s gaze. Eventually she was looking at this boy too, and the look on her face suggested that she knew something that Will didn’t. Not that Will even saw her expression anyway. 

As Will continued to look, he realised how nosy he may have appeared to be. He was just curious like he always was, new people always intrigued him for some reason. If someone were to catch him staring in some sort of daze like this though, they’d probably find it extremely weird. Will saw this boy turn to the side and look down the hallway as he rearranged his locker, and it was the first time he caught sight of his face. He looked mildly anxious and on edge as he clumsily fumbled around in the small locker space, continuously checking if people were watching him. He didn’t look in Will’s direction though, and thank god too; both he and Max were staring now. 

Max sighed. “You know, I don’t get it.”

“What do you mean? Don’t get what?” Will asked, confused by Max’s statement. He turned to look at her quickly, and then back at the boy who looked like he just wanted to climb into his open locker and never come out. 

“Apparently he was transferred from his last school in another state because of an  _ incident _ that happened there, but no one knows what it is and it’s weirdly confidential. I don’t know, man. It seems shady to me.” Max explained, and suddenly all sorts of questions were flooding into Will’s brain. That was always the problem with being too curious, he’d end up unintentionally prying into people’s minds, wondering about them. Why they did this, why they did that.

Will shifted on his feet so he could lean against the locker behind him. “An incident? Where’d you hear that?” 

“Dustin told us yesterday, weren’t you listening?” Max asked.

“I probably spaced out.”

“Like you did just then,” Max pointed out. “Anyway, don’t go telling anyone else. If I were him I’d probably want everyone to ignore me.”

“How did Dustin find out, then?” Will pushed. 

“He was waiting in the main office for something, and that was when the guy first arrived, Dustin overheard some stuff, and that’s what he got from it.” Max explained, she then popped a piece of gum in her mouth and started chewing on it; not offering Will one because she knew he hated it.

Will wasn’t really sure what to do with this information, not that it was important to do anything with it at all, obviously; he just felt as if he ought to. It would be one of those things that would sit in the back of his head, and he’d think about it every time he saw the boy now, but he’d never ask because Will knew that it wouldn’t be the polite thing to do. He couldn’t help but wonder what the  _ incident _ was, and why it was so bad that his family literally had to move states. Will had always been fascinated by mysteries, and it was like a human mystery had appeared right in front of him and he had the urge to figure it out. 

Will shook his head to get rid of his thoughts, he shouldn’t care about it. It wasn’t important, and it was none of his business. There was just something though, that told him he should know him. He wasn’t with anyone, so maybe he hadn’t made any friends yet. Will thought that maybe he should try and approach him, but he quickly decided against it. He probably wouldn’t want that. 

“Do you know his name?” Will asked, just out of genuine curiosity. He assumed that Dustin would’ve most likely heard a name if he overheard anything else. 

Max looked at Will with some sort of strange expression, but then answered. “Why do you care?”

“What? I don’t.” Will said defensively.

It was true, he didn’t care. Well, not yet anyway. 

“Sure.” Max said, in a tone that let Will know that she did not believe him one bit. “And no, Dustin didn’t catch his name.” 

Will wanted to look away but it was like he couldn’t bring himself to, he just kept looking and wondering. They didn’t have a class to get to anyway, they were going to meet up with the others and have lunch at their usual table like they always did, obviously rather late by this point because the halls seemed to be clearing up. The boy still stood by his locker, and Will assumed he was trying to get it all organised since he’d only just arrived there. Will looked, perhaps for too long, because the boy looked over his shoulder and caught Will’s eye. He had his eyebrows scrunched together as if he was asking Will why he was staring at him, and Will quickly tore his eyes away and looked at Max. 

“Well now he thinks you’re a freak.” Max pointed out, and Will playfully punched her in the arm. 

Will scoffed. “Shut up.” When he turned to look again, he saw that the boy had closed his locker and was making his way down the hall rather quickly, further and further away from Will and Max. 

“You literally scared him off with your creepy staring.” Max argued, and then she changed the subject, which Will thanked her for in his mind. “Come on, I’m starving.” 

Despite what a lot of people may have thought, Will Byers wasn’t afraid to talk to people that he didn’t know. A lot of people seemed to assume that he wouldn’t be the best at communicating with others, but he could manage it. He liked to think he had a good relationship with a lot of people, even his teachers, the librarian… Others would find it strange, but Will really didn’t, he liked people. Perhaps that explained why he was suddenly so captivated by this new kid, something about him told Will that he was different, but kind of like himself at the same time. 

He’d wonder what the  _ incident _ was, and why it was so confidential. Did he get into trouble? Did he do something bad? Did someone die? Will realised that he had only briefly seen this guy from afar for a matter of minutes before he hastily rushed down the hall, and that it was ridiculous of him to be asking so many questions in his mind. Maybe it was the part of Will that sensed some sort of similarity between them, and he wanted to latch onto it. Will personally thought he was a good judge of character, and it didn’t usually take him long to figure people out. What he didn’t know, however, was that this boy in particular had a hard time trusting people in the first place. So it wasn’t even like Will would be able to get close.

 

_ Not that I’d want to, I don’t even know the guy. _

 

Will tried not to think too much into it as the day continued, because really, it wasn’t important. He had other things to worry about, like the three pieces of homework he had due for the next day, or the test he had to study for. He even had multiple drawings planned that he’d been thinking about for so long, but he never got the motivation to sit down and get those ideas down onto paper. Maybe he would if he didn’t want to do his homework enough, then he’d do that instead. He always loved drawing, captivated by how you could just think of something and make it visual with just a few tools, but at the moment; he’d lost his inspiration.

He didn’t know if it was school getting harder by the day, or because he was home alone a lot; but it was like he’d just lost something inside of him that used to push him to create art. Recently, he’d just picture wonderful ideas in his head rather than actually creating them. He knew he could do it, but he just felt like he didn’t have the motivation. It was easy when he was a kid, all the make believe and fantasy stories… but now, when he brought the pencil down to the paper, he couldn’t make his hand move no matter how hard he tried. He needed an inspiration, or perhaps… a muse. 

Will then realised that he must’ve sounded pathetic. A _ muse? _ What was he thinking? His life wasn’t some movie, and it wasn’t going to turn out that way, so he’d just have to suffer with his mental block like everyone else did. He knew he wasn’t anything special, sometimes feeling like he was just passing through life with no purpose whatsoever, or maybe he just hadn’t found it yet. Will was one of those people who liked to question a lot of things, sometimes he’d just look in the mirror and wonder why he was there. Not that he didn’t want to be, he just wanted to know why. Having a mind like that was frustrating though, often he wished he could just think like a normal person. 

“We’ve gotta plan a sleepover, you guys. It’s been too long.” Dustin declared, turning to his side and nudging Lucas. “Don’t you think?”

The five of them sat at their usual table in the cafeteria, a low buzz of their fellow students’ voices was heard. Will had been friends with Dustin and Lucas for the longest, since they were little kids. Will met Max some years later and introduced her to the others, and despite knowing her for a shorter time, Will quickly became close friends with her. Then there was El, who only moved into the area two years beforehand, Dustin had asked her if she wanted to sit with them one day, and she’d been there ever since. Will liked her, but he wasn’t the closest with her. She’d hang out with him and Max quite frequently though, she didn’t really understand the arcade games but she’d try her best. 

“Don’t  _ you _ think, we’re a bit too old for that?” Lucas retorted, and Dustin immediately placed a hand on his chest in mock offence. Will picked at his food, he’d somehow lost his appetite and he wasn’t quite sure why. Out of all of them, Dustin and Lucas were the ones who did the most bickering; almost everything they argued over was stupid, in Will’s opinion anyway. 

“I can’t believe you just said that.” Dustin shook his head, brushing some of the curls out of his eyes dramatically. 

“Okay! Sorry, sorry.” Lucas quickly apologised. “All I’m saying is-”

“You’re not saying  _ anything _ , Sinclair. We’re having a sleepover and you’re coming whether you like it or not.” Dustin said as a final statement, and Lucas couldn’t really argue there, even if he tried. 

Will looked up from his food, suddenly having effort to join in the conversation. “I don’t think we’re too old.”

Maybe it was just because Will was in denial about growing up, but he really did like the sleepovers that they had. They’d have them quite often, alternating who would host it. In a way, it kept Will connected to the childhood that he wasn’t quite ready to lose. They were all going to turn eighteen within the next year, it was inevitable. They we’re probably going to go separate ways, to different colleges in different states. Will wanted to cling on to whatever he had now for as long as possible; he had to. 

“See, Will gets it.” Dustin gestured to Will opposite him, and then looked at Lucas again. Lucas didn’t look like he was in the mood for a petty argument with Dustin at that moment, so he just sighed and shook his head. Will knew that Lucas liked the sleepovers too, anyway. He just didn’t want to admit it. 

“Will gets a lot of things,” Max’s voice was heard from behind Will, who turned around and looked at her holding her lunch tray, El standing beside her. She placed her tray down on the table rather heavily, and then practically threw herself into her seat. “But obviously not the fact that I’m allowed to go to the arcade alone.” 

El sat down next to Max, somewhat more calmly. Will had noticed that they’d been spending a lot more time together than usual, but he didn’t think too much into it. They always had been good friends, Will knew that, but it was like Max always seemed to be telling him that she was going to meet up with El before class, lunch or after school a lot more than normal. At the moment, it was Dustin and Lucas, Max and El, and just Will. He considered himself the closest with Max, but this kind of bond was different. 

He felt like he didn’t have that with anyone. He and Max just talked about a lot of things, had a lot of the same interests and just genuinely got on really well. They told each other a lot of things, and it was great, but it was like there was a big gap in their friendship and that was stopping them from being even closer than they already were. Will had thought for a long time, that he and Max were as close as they were ever going to get. Will didn’t have  _ that _ kind of person yet, and he was convinced he was never going to find them, whoever they were. 

Will rolled his eyes. “I never said you couldn’t, you just broke our rule.”

“Well, it’s not such a bad thing. Sometimes you’ve gotta bend the rules a little to-”

“To ‘beat my ass’?” Will cut her off.

Max nudged Will’s shoulder and then nodded. “Yeah, you get it now.”

“Sure.” Will scoffed and shook his head.

“You can  _ beat her ass _ on another game, Will.” El added, and Will smiled to himself. She was right, Space Invaders wasn’t the only game they were allowed to play, so he had plenty of opportunities to show Max that her practicing was a waste of time. 

Will nodded in El’s direction, leaning forwards so he could see past Max who was sat in between them. “Thanks, El.” 

El simply shrugged with a smile and then continued to eat whatever food she had on her plate. The group of them sat without speaking for a few moments, but then Max suddenly perked up as if she remembered something. She quickly swallowed her food, and then leaned towards the middle of the table as if she was going to have to whisper, so everyone followed suit. 

“Hey, Dustin. We saw that boy you were talking about..” Max whispered, tucking a strand of hair away that had fallen out of place. 

Dustin scrunched his eyebrows together. “Who? The new kid?”

Max nodded, and Will hoped that she wouldn’t tell the others about their weird encounter. Well, it wasn’t really an encounter. Either way, Will felt a slight embarrassment layered with annoyance when Max went against Will’s internal wishes and decided to tell them all. He didn’t know why he felt embarrassed, he just decided that he tended to feel that way easily. Sometimes you just feel embarrassed when you don’t really have a reason to.

“He just seems really weird, you know? Will kept looking at him and asking me questions as if I knew the guy personally-”

Will cut Max off quickly. “I did not!”

“Sure,” Max said dismissively, and Will sighed, placing his chin on the palm of his hand, where his elbow rested against the table. “Anyways, he looked all secretive and shit. When he saw us looking, he practically bolted.”

“Why do you think he moved here? I mean, from what Dustin told us, the reason he had to move is a huge ass secret.” Lucas said, gesturing to Dustin when he was mentioned. 

Dustin widened his eyes and turned to Lucas. “I’ve got it. What if he’s going undercover for the FBI and he’s just spying on us all, you know? Like maybe there’s someone they’re after around here and sending an adult would be too risky. So they hired this kid, he’s got an ear piece and everything, probably a taser-”

“Dustin, your imagination sure is wonderful but I think that’s a bit of a reach.” Max cut him off, before his made up story could become too detailed. 

Will knew that Dustin always liked to think of the extreme, and he wasn’t afraid to explain things with insane amounts of detail. He found it cool usually, but his time though, it was bothering Will. They were all talking about this guy and it was none of their business, and Will was sure that it was the last thing someone would need when they moved to a new school. Will was certain he wouldn't want that, so he shouldn’t be letting the others do it. 

“Maybe he accidentally killed someone.” Max suggested, and Will was about to draw the line there but El beat him to it. 

“He probably just had to move because his dad got a job around here or something, chill out guys.” She said, and Will silently thanked her.

Lucas adjusted his position on his seat. “But what about the  _ incident _ Dustin was talking about?”

Even though Will couldn’t deny he was curious too, he wouldn’t talk about it. It might not have been true anyway, so he’d treat it as something that was none of his business and ignore the whole thing. That was the best way to go about it. 

“It’s probably nothing, Dustin could’ve misheard.” Will decided to jump in, feeling as if he had a duty to. “Also, it’s none of our business anyway.” 

“That’s not what you thought half an hour ago.” Max turned to Will with a smirk on her face, and Will wished he could just slap it right off. 

“Yeah, well…” Will started, picking at his food again whilst avoiding eye contact. “I’ve decided it’s none of my business, and it’s none of yours. So can we just drop it?” 

No one replied to Will for a fair few moments, whilst he refused to look at the rest of them. By doing this, he wasn’t aware that the four of them were staring directly at him with thoughtful looks plastered across all of their faces.

“Is someone looking for a new boyfriend, perhaps?” 

Will almost choked on his food. “What the hell? Why would you think that?” 

“It’s been a year, Will! I wouldn’t blame you.” Max shrugged, pushing her lunch tray away from herself. 

It could be said that Will’s group of friends were very comfortable with one another, and they knew they’d all be totally accepting of each other. It did take a while to get to that stage though, for all of them, but it was Will who broke the ice. Things were hard, as expected. There were countless nights crying himself to sleep, wishing he could be  _ normal.  _ He always known he was not like everyone else, it took him awhile to figure things out and through a lot of self doubt and hatred… Will eventually felt happy to say that he liked boys, and only boys. 

He remembered how he told everyone, it was his brother, Jonathan at first, and it went so much better than Will had expected. Then his mother, Will had always had some feeling that it wouldn’t change anything between them, and it didn’t; he still worried about telling her the most out of everyone, though. For the others, he just dropped it in their conversations at random times and he tried not to make a big deal out of it, and he trusted them to not tell anyone else. They’d kept that promise ever since, and they were extremely happy for their friend. It even made some of them share some of their secrets too, and now they were that small group who knew stuff about each other that no one else did. 

Others had their suspicions though, especially about Will. They always had. Troy Harrington and his friends had been picking on Will since he could remember, especially for things like being gay. They didn’t know anyway, they just allocated those chosen insults to Will when really they had no idea that they were right the whole time. Well, not when the horrible things were said, although Will sometimes believed them. At the end of the day, Will was finally happy with who he was and he was incredibly thankful for all of the supportive people around him, who treated it like the most normal thing in the world. 

“It’s been a year for a reason, okay?” Will sighed, remembering back to the last relationship he had. He hadn’t had many, because it was rare that he’d find people like him, but the last one was… messy. 

Dustin finished up the last bit of his food before speaking. “Maybe that means it’s time. Before you know it, we’ll be off to college soon and-”

“So why don’t I just wait until then?” Will suggested, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He loved his friends, but god, sometimes they got on his nerves with how much they cared. 

“Yeah, I guess you meet a lot of new people in college.” Lucas added, and Will nodded along.

“Exactly. Thanks, Lucas.” 

“So, no boys at all... for the whole of senior year?” El asked him, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yep,” Will started, but then his eyes caught the boy from earlier; the new kid. He sat alone a few tables away and Will could see him from where he was sitting. He picked at his food, loose curls falling in front of his face as he kept his head down. The sleeves of his sweater were pulled down over his hands and he seemed to be clutching the fabric tightly to keep himself grounded. His leg bounced up and down slightly, and Will could tell it was a sign of nerves. His heart ached, but he wouldn’t admit that to anyone; not even himself. “No boys.” 

He knew that the others had noticed who he was looking since he paused for so long, but they didn’t say anything for once. Will had to admit that he was surprised they didn’t start coming up with some ridiculous theories about how Will liked this guy, because they would be so wrong. Will didn’t like him, he didn’t even know him. He hadn’t even heard him speak and he’d only seen him from a distance. That would be completely unrealistic, but Will did get some sort of urge to know him better though. As a friend. 

Will was in his final lesson of the day when he really needed to use the bathroom, so from the back of his art class he raised his hand and asked Mrs Walker if he could be excused. She politely allowed him too, and as Will walked to the front of the class, Troy Harrington stuck his foot out into the space where he was walking. Will noticed before something embarrassing could happen, so he simply stepped over Troy’s outstretched foot and continued walking. Will glanced back at Troy as if to say  _ nice try. _

He took the hall pass from Mrs Walker and left the room, wondering why on earth Troy, of all people, picked art as a subject. Will never took any of his shit in that classroom, because it was  _ his _ place, it always had been. He wasn’t going to let some asshole ruin it. Will believed art was one of his only few forms of escapism, and he even needed that during the school day. He wanted to keep it that way, nice and peaceful. 

On his way to the bathroom, walking through the empty halls, Will realised that he hadn’t seen the new guy in any of his classes. He felt disappointed, in a way, but Will had only been in three lessons since he had supposedly arrived so there was a chance he would be in some of his other classes he hadn’t had yet. Not that he cared, he was just curious. It would be nice to have someone new in some of his classes for once. 

The boys’ bathroom only had stalls, so Will went in one of them and proceeded to do his business. When he was done, he was about to leave to wash his hands when he heard the main door to the bathroom practically slam open which caused him to jump. He didn’t leave yet, and he listened to the harsh footsteps on the floor as he watched the shadows move around. Whoever it was locked themselves in the stall next to Will, who still felt like he should hold his breath in order to act like he wasn’t even there. 

He heard some sniffling, and then a harsh noise like this guy had hit the bathroom stall door. He seemed to sigh deeply in frustration. “Pull yourself together, Mike.” 

 

Mike.

 

_ Mike. _

 

Will decided that this guy - Mike, if it was himself he was talking to - seemed to be crying, but he really didn’t want to. Well, people rarely  _ want _ to cry, but this guy sounded like he hated himself with a passion for it. Will didn’t recognise the voice at all, so he assumed it was someone who he didn’t really know well. There was a sound like he had sat on top of the closed toilet lid, and then another sigh. Will didn’t really know what to do, or if he should do anything. If he left then he’d know someone was in there, but if he stayed then he’d miss too much of his class; and this guy would think he was a weirdo. 

Will decided that the best thing was to just act completely normally, so he slid open the lock on the door of the stall and stepped out. The sniffling stopped abruptly, and Will realised he didn’t need to hold his breath anymore since he’d already made his presence known. He walked to the sink and started to wash his hands, quite slowly, just to see if the owner of the voice would appear.

Soon enough, he did. Will heard the lock open, and he knew he’d be able to see this person in the reflection of the mirror but he forced himself not to look. He didn’t want to seem  _ that _ creepy. Or had he already blown it? Will just continued to leave the water running over his hands and then he turned the faucet off, a small squeak was heard. He eventually heard footsteps behind him, and the presence of someone leaning against the sink next to him, their eyes right on Will.

Will dried his hands on his jeans and then turned to look at this guy, and he was surprised he managed to remain standing up. 

It was  _ him.  _ The new kid. Mike was his name. The one who caught Will staring at him earlier that day, the one who Will had spent most of the day wondering about. Seeing him up close was not at all a disappointment. He was taller than Will by quite a bit, Will was shorter than a lot of people but this guy was just tall. His knitted sweater seemed slightly big on him, slightly falling over his hands which were soon crossed over his chest. His hair was a curly dark mess but it was more like an organised mess; like Will had described himself a fair few times. 

His eyes were a hazel brown, slightly reddened for reasons Will would be far too polite to bring up. If he looked hard enough he would see the small golden flecks in them, not that he was trying at all. He didn’t look at the modest amount of freckles scattered across his cheeks, nor the purple tint under his eyes that were obviously a result of a lack of sleep. His gaze most certainly didn’t linger on the angles of his face, or his soft looking lips. No, not at all.

Because quite frankly, Will Byers did not care, and he never would. 

“Uh, are you alright?” was all Will managed to say, trying not to choke on his words. He usually didn’t have a problem with talking to new people, why was this happening now? The boy walked around Will towards the window, and he sat himself on the windowsill, crossing his arms again. Will’s gaze followed him, and he waited for him to respond.

He cleared his throat. “As it goes? Well, not really.” 

_ It’s nice to hear his voice.  _

Will didn’t speak for a few moments, trying to find the right words. He couldn’t just leave, and even if he tried he didn’t think he could make himself. There was something about this guy’s look that made Will keep his feet firmly in place, and he didn’t really know what to do.

“You’re new, right?” Will asked, deciding it would be best if they could introduce themselves to each other properly.

He nodded. “Oh, yeah. First day.” He shrugged. “I’m Mike, by the way.”

 

_ So he was talking to himself. _

 

“Cool.” Will said, and then he wanted to slap himself because it sounded weird. “I’m Will, well- William, but no one calls me that. I don’t know why I’m telling you this.” Will laughed at himself, trying to make the situation less awkward than it already was. He saw Mike smile slightly, and he took that as a good sign since it was the first time he had ever seen him smile.

“Well, Will. My actual name is Michael but no one calls me that either; apart from my dad, sometimes my mom… but that doesn’t matter.” Mike shrugged, pulling one of his legs to his chest after he rested it on the windowsill.

Mike didn’t look like he was planning on leaving anytime soon, so Will stayed. Suddenly, missing his art class didn’t seem so bad.

“So, has your first day gone badly or something?” Will asked, with genuine curiosity.

“You could say that.” Mike shrugged. “Are all the teachers here as bad as Mr Daniels?”

Will widened his eyes. “You have him? God, I’m sorry man. I had him last year, and let's say he put me off American History for the rest of my life.”

Will remembered back to those lessons last year, and he absolutely dreaded them. Mr Daniels was rude, he’d ask you too many questions about your personal life, would give you detention for being a single minute late. Some of the comments he would drop in class would make Will want to jump up from his seat and start an argument with him, because in Will’s opinion, he was wrong about a lot of things. Will felt more relaxed talking to Mike now, even if they were talking about one of the worst teachers in the whole school.

“I’ve only had him the once and I can already tell he’s such an asshole. I’m pretty sure he already hates me, and you know what makes it worse?” Mike leaned forward as if he was telling Will a secret. It wasn’t like anyone would be able to hear them anyway, but Will waited for his answer. “It was his class I just stormed out of.”

“No way.” Will started, knowing that doing something like that in that class, was sure to guarantee you a weeks worth of detentions.

Mike nodded his head, and then laughed slightly before looking down. “Yeah, he said a lot of shit that I didn’t like and it set me off.”

Will then remembered that Mr Daniels was extremely homophobic, he almost never went a single lesson without offending Will in that sort of way. He didn’t know if Mike meant the same thing, because that teacher did say  _ a lot _ of offensive things and it could’ve been anything. He wondered what would’ve made Mike so angry that he had to storm out of the class, though. Will didn’t bring up the fact that he could quite clearly hear Mike crying, and it seemed that there was way more to it than just a few shitty things being said by a dumb teacher.

 

_ I won’t pry, that’s rude. _

_ But he’s clearly not okay. _

_ It’s none of your business, Will. _

 

“I know the feeling.” Will nodded, and then he thought of something. “You know you don’t have to be by yourself all the time. You can come and sit with me and my friends at lunch if you ever want to, I mean… you don’t have to. I just thought I’d offer.” 

Mike looked at Will in a thoughtful way, where Will couldn’t decide if he was going to happily agree or throw it back in his face. Will thought that he must’ve seemed so desperate, they’d only had a small conversation and he was already practically offering friendship. Will wasn’t the best at these things, but he was trying; it was what any decent human being would’ve done.

“Maybe,” Mike nodded, and Will got the impression that he was the type of person that liked to be alone sometimes. So he would respect that, at least he offered. “Thanks, Will.”

_ Why is it so nice to hear him say my name? _

“Hey, didn’t I see you in the hall before?” Mike asked, and Will was sure he stopped breathing again. He saw him staring. 

Will scratched the back of his neck. “Maybe?” 

“I did, I remember now.” Mike nodded. “I mean, everyone’s been giving me weird looks all day, but you were the only one who wasn’t.”

“I wasn’t?”

“No, it was more thoughtful. Like you cared.” Mike said, giving Will that thoughtful look he was talking about. Will felt like he could quite possibly melt down the drain when Mike looked at him. 

He wondered about Mike. What music did he listen to? Did he read books, and if he did… what kind of books did he read? What were his favourite movies? Was he an artist like Will, or a writer? Will found himself less concerned with the actual reason Mike was there, and he thought more about him as a person. He wanted to know him, but he didn’t know why. Will didn’t really know what to say, so he returned the thoughtful look; like he cared.

 

_ Do I care? _

_ No. _

_ I shouldn’t. _

_ But I think I do. _

 

“I think you’re the most decent person I’ve met in this school so far.” Mike told him, and if he was going to melt down the drain at any point, it would be then.

Will smiled. “Thanks, you’re not too bad yourself, new kid.”

“Will I ever lose that damn title?”

“Soon enough.” Will reassured him.

Suddenly, Mike pushed himself off the windowsill and stood up, brushing his hands off on his trousers. “I should probably get back, I’ve been gone long enough to use the excuse that I felt sick.”

“Good idea, the worst you’ll get is a few detentions. Or maybe he’ll let you off, who knows.” Will shrugged, turning when Mike walked past him towards the door.

“I can only hope,” Mike shrugged. “Thanks for talking to me, William. See you around.”

“Bye,  _ Michael _ .” Will said, using the full name just like Mike did. Mike only laughed lightly and then nodded in Will’s direction, before slipping out of the bathroom door.

Will smiled to himself once he was gone, hoping that Mike would take him up on his offer at some point. It would be nice to make a new friend, and Mike seemed cool, now that he’d actually spoken to him. Will decided that he was right about what he thought earlier, Mike was a mystery. He wanted to know more, the boy seemed a bit broken and rough around the edges, but sometimes the best pieces of art had their imperfections.

Will wanted to punch a wall when he looked in the mirror and saw the pink flush across his cheeks.

 

_ Damn you, new kid. _


	2. sad boy

The arcade was Will’s favourite place, besides a few other safe places where he found comfort. They were the kind of places where he could just relax and forget about everything that was bothering him if he tried just the right amount. If he wanted to be alone, he’d go and sit in Castle Byers. He still liked to spend time in the little fort made out of branches, despite it being quite old by this point, it was still going strong. That was the place where he’d create some of his best pieces of art, there was something about it that just inspired him; no matter what.

However, the arcade was something more social, he’d go there with his friends and have a good time. Sometimes, he had to admit, it would be somewhat stressful since his friends were the most competitive people he had ever met. Still, it was where he spent most of his free time, and going there at least once a week, even just with Max, made him happy. 

When he was younger, Will always used to ride his bike to get there, but now, at the age of seventeen; he had learnt to drive. He pulled into the parking lot in Jonathan’s old car, Jonathan was his older brother. He gave it to Will when he left for college, and Will had to admit; he did miss him a lot. 

He missed their talks, because Will really felt like he could tell Jonathan absolutely anything. He was the first person Will told about his sexuality, and he made him feel good about it for once in his life. After years of thinking he was all of these horrible things, just because he would rather crush on boys than girls… Jonathan gave him hope. 

 

_ Love whoever you want, buddy. Never let anyone tell you otherwise. _

 

Ever since then, that was what Will did. When people would tell him otherwise, he wouldn’t let them. He’d never give them the satisfaction which would be showing that he cared. Most of the time, it didn’t bother him because he had grown so used to it, and he had almost given up on trying to educate people so he just didn’t bother. 

But he had those days, where he really felt as if he wanted to crawl under his bed sheets and stay there forever. The odd day where someone would make a stupid comment regarding his sexuality in the school halls. Those days weren’t common though, because ultimately, Will Byers knew that he  _ could _ love whoever he wanted, and he didn’t give a shit if anyone had a problem with it. 

The car itself wasn’t exactly top of the range, an old hand-me-down was hardly going to be the best. It wasn’t the best car you could get, or the most reliable; but at least it was something that could help get him around. Sometimes he’d just go for drives around Hawkins to clear his head, or he’d drive up to the quarry and he’d sit there… thinking. He needed time to think sometimes, and he thought it was important to have time alone. Still, Will felt like he had a gap somewhere. Everyone had  _ their person _ , and he didn’t. Will knew that he was far from alone, he had so many good people around him.

But he still felt half empty. 

Will got out of his car and shut the door behind him, making his way to the entrance of the  _ Palace Arcade.  _ He gazed at the familiar building as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his denim jacket in search of warmth. The summer air lingered for quite some time, but now it was at a point where it was becoming colder and colder; you couldn’t go out without a jacket anymore. Will didn’t mind though, he liked his jackets. 

There was something comforting about the neon sign outside of the arcade, the purple and orange colours everywhere, the flashing lights he could spot from various games through the glass and even the bike rack outside where he used to put his bike. Will had spent hours upon hours here, and he wasn’t ready to let go of it yet. 

So, he entered the (not so) busy arcade and began to look around for Max, since she almost always made it there before him. Will noticed that not as many people would visit the arcade, every year it would get quieter; he suspected it was due to the new consoles that kept coming out. The ones you could just have at home. Will did like those, but there was something about the older games that he liked, and he very much preferred them. 

Will was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of a familiar voice. “Will!” Max called from a few feet away. He turned his head to search for her, and eventually his eyes caught the red head who was approaching him, he gave her a small smile and a wave. 

She had her hair up in a high ponytail, and Will knew that whenever she’d wear her hair like that, she was serious. Well, about the video games anyway. Sometimes Will worried about how competitive she was, it was past the point of normal. He then wondered if she’d brought El with her this time, but he couldn’t see her anywhere. She had been there the past few times, even if she wasn’t paying attention, she’d sit there getting lost in a book. 

“Hey, you alright?” Will asked, taking his hands out of his pockets. Inside the arcade was warm, and he silently thanked whoever installed their heating system. 

Max stopped in front of Will. “Yeah, I’m great. Come on, I told El to watch the machine so no one would take it but she’ll probably walk away without realising.” She rambled, grabbing onto the sleeve of Will’s jacket. Before he even had time to acknowledge that his thoughts about El being there were correct, he was being dragged along the carpeted floor of the arcade. Max walked so fast he had to walk more firmly so she wouldn’t physically pull him over.

“Jesus, slow down.” Will attempted to protest, but suddenly they stopped in front of Space Invaders. “You  _ so _ could’ve pulled my arm off.” 

“Yeah, right.” Max rolled her eyes, standing in front of the machine she placed her hands on either side of it and looked at the screen. “You’re never gonna beat my score, look.” 

Will moved closer and looked at the screen, and it read:  _ MADMAX - 100,000. _

“One hundred  _ thousand?  _ Seriously?” Will widened his eyes, and Max turned to look at him with the proudest look on her face. 

She nodded. “Try me, Byers.” 

“It’s on, Mayfield.” Will said smugly, stepping sideways he nudged Max out of the way. She stepped back and took the place where Will was previously standing. He suddenly saw El leaning against the side of the machine, holding an open book in one hand. She looked extremely focused, and Will almost jumped because he didn’t even notice that she was there. She was so quiet sometimes, she made her way around without anyone even noticing. Max clearly noticed her though, more than anyone else. “Oh. Hey, El.” 

“Hi, Will,” She said, somewhat plainly as she flipped a page. “We got here about two hours ago, just so you know.” 

“Are you serious?” Will sighed, looking at Max who simply shrugged with a guilty smile on her face. 

She leaned against the other side of the machine and looked at him, as if she was asking for forgiveness. “Last minute practice?” 

“I hate you.” Will shook his head, but he breathed out a small laugh. Max would know that he was joking, of course. They’d say they hated each other all the time, they never meant it. Will then turned to look at El again, who just looked completely uninterested. He had to admit, he was amazed at how she managed to stay so focused with all the noise going on. “How could you allow this, El?” 

“I’m not getting involved.” She shrugged, swapping the book to her other hand. It was only a small one, but Will still thought it was cool how she could hold it in one hand.

Will only sighed before he started the game, and his first attempt wasn’t great, but he still had time. He and Max would take turns, like they always did. He focused on the pixelated aliens and tried to shoot at them as they approached, but it wasn’t really going well. Will always knew his first attempts didn’t go the best, but once he had got some practice, like Max had sneakily got, he’d do pretty well. 

It was Max’s turn again, and Will was now leaning against the side of the machine with his arms crossed. They’d gotten to a point where they’d be talking about other things, they’d be able to continue playing as they discussed other random subjects. Like how Max got a detention she thought she didn’t really deserve from her history teacher, and sometimes El would jump in with her random comments when she’d feel the need. 

It had been quiet for a few moments, but then Will’s mind suddenly flicked back to the new kid; Mike. The one he was so intrigued by, the one who he heard crying in the bathroom, and the one he sort of…  connected with. Will didn’t know why he’d only just remembered it until now, but as soon as he did, a smile appeared on his face. He prayed for it to go away, but it didn’t, because he couldn’t stop thinking about his freckled cheeks and warm brown eyes. 

 

_ I think you’re the most decent person I’ve met in this school so far. _

 

Will wanted to slap himself in the face then.

 

_ Yes, Will. You think he’s pretty. But that’s all there is to it, okay? _

_ Okay. _

 

“What are you smiling about?” Max brought Will out of his thoughts when she took her eyes off the game for a second to glance at him, and he was thankful for it; but now he’d have to explain himself.

He shrugged and adjusted his standing position. “Smiling? What? No I’m not.” Will quickly made himself have a  _ straight _ face. He could tell that Max clearly wasn’t buying it by the way she was looking at him. 

“You  _ were _ smiling.” She pointed out, shrugging. “Come on, spill.” 

Will sighed. “There’s nothing too spill. And even if there was, it’d be none of your business.” 

“I thought we were friends, Will?” Max said in mock offence, laughing to herself. “Anyways, I don’t believe you.”

Will didn’t reply for a few more moments, and then he decided that there was really nothing to be secretive about. He’d just spoken to the guy, that was all. It wasn’t like it was some giant secret he needed to keep from her. But he thought she might take it the wrong way, since she’d seen him smiling so big. He was simply reflecting on a nice conversation he had with someone new who just so happened to be rather nice to look at. That was it. 

He left it for a bit longer, so it would seem like he was starting a new conversation. “I spoke to the new kid today.” He said after clearing his throat. 

“You did?” Max asked. She suddenly didn’t seem at all that bothered, and Will was thankful.

He nodded. “Yeah, his name’s Mike. He seems really nice, and I said he could come and sit with us at lunch and stuff if he ever wanted to, just so you know.” 

Max took her eyes off the game quickly and glanced at Will thoughtfully. He knew she was always okay with welcoming new people, so he didn’t think there would be a problem with it. Max shrugged before saying, “That’s fine by me.” Will internally sighed with relief. “So… he’s really nice, huh?” 

Will could just tell what Max was trying to get at by the tone of her voice and the look on her face. He didn’t like it one bit. “It’s not like that, asshole. We’ve talked  _ once. _ ” Will punched her arm, causing her to move sideways slightly and her fingers slipped off the buttons. Max gasped when “GAME OVER” appeared on the screen. She looked at Will as if she was prepared to strangle him at that very moment. 

“It  _ seems _ like that,” She pointed out. “But seriously, Will. I was just about to beat my highscore, and you killed me.”

Will put his hands up in defense. “I’m sorry! I mean, technically, it wasn’t my fault.” 

“Of course it was your fault, idiot!” Max’s voice raised. Even though she seemed mad now, she’d be fine in about ten minutes. Will knew that from past experience. “Now you have to go buy us some snacks and shit.”

“Fine,” Will sighed. “I’ll buy the food this time.” 

“Yes, you will.” Max nodded, crossing her arms. 

Will just rolled his eyes before turning on his heel and walking in the other direction. In the arcade, there was a diner-like area with a few booths and seats. It wasn’t like a restaurant or anything, it was just like a sitting area where they sold a range of snacks and drinks. Sometimes they’d all just go to sit there because it was nice, even if they didn’t play any of the games. 

If Will was honest with himself, he knew that he didn’t always  _ want _ to spend the small amount of money he had on games that really gave you nothing; apart from pixelated points and a few moments of pride. So, more often than not, Will would just go there to study. He didn’t mind the noise sometimes, anyway; sometimes it made him focus more.

Will wasn’t exactly low on money, he just didn’t have a lot of it. At least, that was what he told himself. Growing up, he’d always be the one who didn’t have all the new stuff, his mother couldn’t afford to keep up. He didn’t mind though, because she’d always try to the highest of her ability to give Will the very best; and in Will’s opinion, she always did. He spent his own money on his own things now, he did have a job that he’d work shifts at when he had spare time. It was at the family video store right next to the arcade, which was convenient. It gave him enough money to get by, and he didn’t  _ hate _ it, so really it wasn’t that bad. The discounts on rentals were a bonus, too. 

Will was about to approach the counter, money in hand, but he stopped in his tracks when he saw someone sitting alone in the corner of the room at one of the booths. His head was down, dark curls falling in front of his face. He had a pen in his hand and he was writing in a notebook that laid open on the table, his sleeves slightly over his hands yet again. It processed in Will’s mind a little late that it was Mike he was looking at, and it was like he’d seen him for the first time again. 

 

_ Do I go and talk to him? _

_ No, that’s weird. _

_ It’s not weird, Will. _

_ True, I should go and say hi.  _

_ But he looks like he wants to be alone. _

_ When does he not? _

 

He shook the internal conflict from his mind, and then decided that he should go and see Mike. It would be rude if he didn’t, right? He was just sitting there, alone. Will also found himself wondering what he was writing down, but he stopped himself. Thinking into things too much was a problem Will kept experiencing lately. It was like he couldn’t stop himself from wondering. 

Will breathed out slowly, Mike still hadn’t seen him yet so he wouldn’t have seen him looking. He didn’t understand why he was getting so stressed over it, Will was usually good with new people, but Mike was different. He just knew it. He made his way towards the table in the corner of the room, hoping his footsteps would alert Mike and make him look up. They didn’t, though. He remained fully focused on whatever he was writing down, and it seemed highly important for some reason. 

Will’s footsteps slowed and he stopped by the edge of the table, he waited for a few moments, just looking at how engrossed Mike was. He thought it was nice how someone could get so into something. Eventually, Will found his confidence and cleared his throat; not in a way that sounded rude, but just so he was making his presence known. If he left it any longer then that’d just be weird, he knew that.

As soon as Mike heard it, he looked up at Will and immediately stopped writing; slamming his notebook shut. “Oh, Will. Hi.” He sat up properly, leaning against the back of the seat. He fiddled with the pen that was still between his fingers. 

“Hey,” Will smiled. “I just saw you sitting here and thought I’d come and say hi.” 

“Well, hi William. It’s nice to meet you, again.” Mike nodded, brushing a curl out of his face. 

 

_ Is that our thing now? Using our full names for each other? _

_ You don’t have a ‘thing’ Will, stop it. _

 

Will gestured to the other side of the booth that was empty, and next to where he was standing. “Mind if I…?” 

“Oh, sure. Go for it.” Mike shrugged. Will smiled and then slid into the seat, he and Mike now sitting opposite each other. He moved his notebook further away and placed it onto the space of the seat next to him. 

“So, what brings you to the arcade?” Will asked, thinking that it was the most pathetic conversation starter he could’ve possibly used. 

Mike shrugged and then yawned subtly. Again, Will noticed how tired he looked. It was kind of worrying, but he wouldn’t say anything. “I don’t know, just wanted to get out of the house I guess.” 

“Sorry, that sounds like a really stupid question now that I think about it.” Will laughed lightly, not wanting to ask the exact reason why Mike didn’t want to be at home. 

Mike shook his head. “It wasn’t stupid. Like I said, you care. It’s nice.” He told him. He placed his elbow on the table, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. “You’re not pretending.”

Will suddenly thought it was nice that Mike seemed to trust him even if he didn’t really know him all that well. Yeah, Will did care. He didn’t think he made it that obvious though, or maybe Mike was just a better judge of character than he was. 

Will didn’t really know what to say to Mike, but he made a mental note of his words so he could think about them later. He simply shrugged, and said: “Did you get a detention for walking out, then?” 

“Oh, no. He let me off  _ this once  _ because it was my first day.” Mike sighed. “I’m gonna be living in detention if he keeps saying the things he does, it’s not right.” 

Will nodded, understanding. “Yeah, it’s pretty shit. Detention isn’t that bad though, they don’t really care what you do.” 

Will hadn’t had detention much, and if he did it would be over stupid things. One time, for example; Troy said something to him that made him angry, but Will’s reaction was a lot louder. He had tried to avoid situations like that ever since.

“Well, thank god for that.” Mike laughed lightly, and Will saw him roll his eyes. He knew that wasn’t directed at him though, probably just the general idea of detentions and shitty teachers. 

Curiosity overcoming him, Will thought back to the book Mike was writing in before he approached him. He wanted to ask about it, and he thought it’d be okay. It was just genuine curiosity, and there was nothing bad about that. Well, as long as it wasn’t something that seemed too personal. 

Will pulled his right knee up to his chest as he rested his foot on the seat. “You had something important to write down before, huh?”

“Oh,” Mike became mildly tense, but then shifted in his seat and he seemed to be okay again. Will briefly worried that he shouldn’t have asked. “Well, it’s not  _ really _ important but… I’m trying to write a book. I’ve always wanted to, so I thought I’d give it a try.” 

 

_ So he’s a writer. _

 

It made sense in Will’s head, that Mike was a writer. He looked like the sort of person who wasn’t very good with words in person, but when he started writing things down it would be easier. Poetic combinations of words would just flow out, and he’d be able to capture something and make you  _ feel _ it when you read it. The way he just seemed so concentrated, paired with his somewhat mysterious and reserved demeanour, and perhaps the way he presented himself told Will that Mike had a way with words even if he couldn’t speak them. 

Will nodded along, happy that he was a creative person like he was; with his art. “Are you allowed to tell me what it’s about, or is it a secret?”

“You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?” Mike asked, with a different kind of smile on his face.

Will just shrugged. “What can I say, I’m a curious guy.” 

He decided that it was best to be confident in this kind of situation, admitting the fact he was curious was the best way forward. Mike didn’t seem offended by it at all, Will didn’t know what he was thinking. Perhaps he was equally as curious. 

“Well, I like you, Byers. You’re cool, you seem like an artistic kind of guy so…” Mike started, and Will tried his best to refrain from smiling like an idiot. “Basically it’s a story, roughly based on my own experiences and shit. Nothing is set in stone yet but I guess I got randomly inspired.” 

 

_ I wonder what inspired him. _

 

“So it’s fictional?” 

“Yeah, it’s more interesting that way.” Mike nodded, his fingers tapped against the tabletop and Will wondered if he had the urge to grab his pen to scribble down ideas again. 

Will nodded in agreement. “Maybe I’ll see your books in a store one day.” 

“Maybe, that’s only if I get my shit together though.” Mike sighed, and then pulled his hand through his messy hair. Will was about to say something after thinking it over, but Mike spoke first. “Which probably won’t happen, but I can try.”

“If it makes you feel any better, to me it looks like you’ve already got your shit together.” Will gestured with his hands, hoping that it did actually make Mike feel better. 

Mike laughed lightly. “You don’t have to lie to make me feel better, I know you heard me crying in the bathroom earlier.”

 

_ Well, shit. _

 

Will had hoped that Mike would assume that he didn’t hear him, but then he thought that it must’ve been obvious. He did punch the door rather loudly, so it was clear that if there was just one other person in the same room, they would’ve heard it. Will didn’t really want to pry into exactly why Mike wasn’t feeling great, he knew he was annoyed because of his teacher; but it seemed like it was more than that. He wondered if it was to do with what happened at his previous school, but he couldn’t exactly ask about that either because he wasn’t supposed to know. Besides, it might’ve been nothing anyway. Dustin had made things up before, but Will couldn’t deny that it made sense this time. 

Will cleared his throat. “I might have, but that doesn’t matter. I’m sure you had a good reason, don’t worry about it.” 

“Just makes me feel pathetic, you know?” Mike shrugged, Will was about to protest but Mike changed the subject. “Anyway, what about you then?”

Will scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion. “What about me?”

“I’m a curious guy, too. What do you like doing?” 

Will was concerned by how quickly Mike managed to change the subject, but he’d go along with it. If Mike didn’t want to talk about something then he’d respect that. “I do a lot of drawing and stuff, but I haven’t for a while.”

“Why not?” Mike asked, he then mimicked Will’s earlier action of pulling his knee up to his chest. 

Will shrugged. “No inspiration, I guess.” 

“That sucks,” Mike said, and Will nodded in agreement. “I bet your stuff is good, I hope you find some inspiration.”

Will already felt a small bit of inspiration creeping up in him, he knew the exact feeling. It was like something inside that sort of sparked, and he wanted to draw. When he wasn’t inspired he just felt like his mind had gone completely empty, but now it was slowly filling up with random ideas. This hadn’t happened for a while, but sitting there he suddenly just got the urge to pick up a pencil and his sketchbook. 

A part of him wanted to draw Mike. 

“Yeah,” Will nodded. “Me too.” There was a pause for a few moments, but then Will started to speak again. “So how come you’ve moved to Hawkins?”

 

_ Was that too personal? _

 

Mike didn’t look like he was uncomfortable, which surprised Will. He started to think the whole thing about the  _ incident _ was really a product of Dustin’s imagination. “Dad got a job here, we all had to move.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, my old school sucked anyway so it’s not like I’ll miss it.” Mike shrugged. Will didn’t want to question Mike on exactly why it  _ sucked _ so badly. He could’ve guessed if he wanted to, but he didn’t. “So what brings  _ you _ here, then?” 

“What? To Hawkins?” 

“No, the arcade.” Mike laughed lightly and shook his head.

Will suddenly remembered that he was here with Max and El, and he was supposed to get the snacks and drinks. He wanted to slap himself, he’d let himself get distracted way too easily, because of Mike. They’d probably be wondering where he was, so he let his foot fall off the seat and he sat up right. 

“I come here all the time, it’s kind of unhealthy.” Will nodded. “I’m actually here with my friends… I kinda completely forgot about them.” 

Mike raised his eyebrows. “Oh… you did?” 

Will’s eyes could have very well been playing tricks on him, but he could’ve sworn he saw that Mike’s cheeks were slightly pink. 

Deciding that it was probably the heating, Will told himself that he’d have to go and find Max and El; no matter how much he’d rather sit there and talk to Mike. “I should probably go and find them, do you wanna come?” 

Mike seemed to suddenly become reserved again, his shoulders had slumped and his whole body language just read that he was on edge. He was pulling his sleeves over his hands more and more, and then he tried to stop himself by crossing his arms. “I- uh… I should probably get back anyway.”

“Oh, are you sure?” Will asked, trying not to look like he was slightly disappointed. He watched Mike grab his coat and put it on, shoving the notebook and pen into his pocket. 

Mike cleared his throat awkwardly. “Um, yeah. I’ve stayed out too long already. Thanks anyway, Will.” He slid out from the booth and stood up. He looked down to where Will was sitting. “Thanks for talking to me, see you in school.” 

Then, Mike walked away and left. 

Will found it nothing short of odd how quickly Mike seemed to go from happily chatting to him to awkwardly wanting to leave within the space of a few seconds. Will felt like it was his fault for some time, but then he realised he had done nothing wrong. He thought over everything he had said and he couldn’t pick out anything that would’ve upset him. He might’ve not wanted to meet Will’s friends, maybe it made him anxious. Will tried his best not to think into it too much, and decided that he probably just had to be back home by a certain time and he didn’t realise he was late. 

He liked talking to Mike, a lot. He was just rather confusing and sometimes Will found it hard to keep up. He then wondered why Mike always thanked him for talking to him, it wasn’t like it was a huge deal. People didn’t usually thank you every time you would be nice enough to sit down and have a conversation with them. Will then thought, maybe Mike wasn’t used to people caring about him. That’s why, when people started to show it, he felt like he had to thank them for their time because perhaps he didn’t feel like he was worth it. 

If that was the case, Will had to admit that it would make him upset. He wouldn’t feel sorry for him exactly, because Will knew what people pitying you felt like, and he didn’t want to do that to anyone else because he hated it so much himself. Will had only spoken to Mike twice, and part of him felt as if he had no right to have all these thought processes about him, let alone ask him all sorts of questions out loud. He’d just have to hope that he would stop wondering, and keep his mouth shut.

There was something about Mike though, something that kept Will wondering. Little things, like the way he dressed, the way he sat, the way he acted, the way he talked… Will hadn’t really seen a person like that before. Well, maybe that one mysterious guy you’d always see in the movies; but this wasn’t a movie, and still, Mike was different than that. Will could already tell.

 

_ He must have a lot going on. _

_ After all, he’s only just moved here. _

_ He’s probably just overwhelmed. _

_ Maybe there’s something going on at home? _

_ Is it something to do with the ‘incident’? _

_ But there was no incident, he moved because of his dad’s job. _

 

Will wondered these sort of things when he was sat with his friend’s one lunch time, hoping that Mike would take him up on his offer to sit with them. He never did. Will saw him walk in to get food, and he’d smile at him. Mike would awkwardly smile back, and then he’d leave with his food. 

 

_ He probably just likes being alone. _

 

He could only guess all of these things, anyway. He could’ve been way off, but he wanted it to make sense in his mind; so that was what he went with. A guy who didn’t really make sense and he’d talk to you when he wanted to. Will didn’t mind that, of course. Sometimes he just wished he was drawn to simpler people, it would make his life a lot easier. 

But that was the thing, the one time everything seemed so simple; he ended up getting hurt. 

During the next week at school, Will didn’t see Mike around that much. He felt as if he couldn’t approach him because he was acting very much like he was the first time Will saw him. Paranoid, anxious, on edge… Will wanted an excuse to talk to him, because he did want to be friends. Mike looked so alone, and if that was what he wanted then Will would respect it, but he couldn’t bear just leaving him when he was most likely the only person in the school he’d properly spoken to. 

They actually did share a few of the same classes, and they did say hi to each other frequently but conversation sort of stopped there. It was like he would only speak properly and act more relaxed when he was alone with one person. Which Will understood, but even then, he didn’t understand Mike. Then he figured that people weren’t made to be understood.

One of the classes they shared was social studies, it was the end of the week and Will was making his way to the class. He had some sort of anxious feeling in his stomach as he approached the door that looked like it had no paint left on it since so much of it had peeled off. Will opened the door and walked in, clutching the strap of his backpack. Most people had already arrived, but there was still a low mumble of various conversations going on so it wasn’t like everyone was staring at him. 

He was about to walk to his seat when Mr Kelly, the teacher, stepped aside from his desk and stopped him. “Will, would you mind staying after class for a word?”

Will then started to worry, wondering what on earth his social studies teacher would want to speak to him after class for. He hadn’t done anything wrong, had he? Maybe he forgot to hand in a homework, or what if he was failing? 

“No need to look so worried, I’m just asking for a favour.” Mr Kelly nodded at him, and Will returned it.

“Oh, okay.” Will said as he began walking to his seat which was pretty central in the classroom.

Mike sat at the back in his usual seat, with his arms crossed on the desk and his chin was rested there. Will saw that he had the very same notebook closed in front of him, even though he knew it wasn’t for this class. He noticed that Mike seemed to carry it everywhere, and he’d be writing in it most of the time. As Will made his way to his own seat, he caught Mike’s eyes. He sent him a small smile, and Mike sat up properly, leaning back in his seat he halfheartedly returned the smile.

“Hi, Will.”

 

_ Did he actually just speak to me first? He never says hi first. _

 

Will nodded his head once. “Hey, Mike.” 

Will then sat down on his chair, and once his back was turned to Mike he let a small smile creep up on his face. It was just nice to know that Mike still wanted to speak to him, even if it was just to say hi, because Will had always been the one to say it first.

 

_ Maybe he’s trying to care because he knows I do. _

 

The lesson passed, and Will almost forgot about staying behind at the end to speak to the teacher. If anyone would’ve asked him at the end of the lesson, what he had learnt; he wouldn’t remember. He was too busy thinking about everything whilst he drew on the corner of his desk on autopilot. He didn’t even notice when Troy started nudging the back of his chair from the seat behind him. He didn’t tell him to  _ fuck off _ like he usually did. He just couldn’t focus and he didn’t really know why. Perhaps it was because he had been waiting for Mike to interact with him first all week, and now that he had, it made Will happy. 

All the students started flooding out of the room once the bell had rung, signalling the end of the day. Will didn’t make an effort to rush out, so he slowly packed away his things. He looked forward to see if Mike would pass him to walk out, but he never did. Will turned around and saw that Mike was still sat at the back of the class in the same slouched position. He didn’t look like he planned on moving anytime soon, and Will wondered if Mr Kelly had asked him to stay behind too.

Now he was confused as to what this was all about. 

Mike didn’t notice Will’s glance at him, so Will quickly turned around and pretended like it never happened. He put his backpack strap on one shoulder and he stood up, walking back to the front of the class. Most of his classmates had cleared out by now, so he stood in front of Mr Kelly’s desk expectantly. 

“Oh, yes. The favour I needed to ask you.” Mr Kelly dusted the chalk dust that was on his fingers off on his trousers. Will guessed that Mike was still at the back of the class, and most likely out of earshot if they spoke quietly enough. Was this ‘favour’ about Mike?

Will nodded. “Yeah?”

“How are you as a tutor?”

_ Does he want me to tutor Mike? For… social studies? _

“Well, I’ve never done it before but I’m sure I could-”

“Great!” Mr Kelly cut him off, and then he brought his voice down quieter. “Mr Wheeler has missed a lot since he started late, and I was hoping you might just be able to help him with some other subjects too. Catching up and things.”

Will realised he’d never heard Mike’s last name before. Mike Wheeler. Michael Wheeler.

Will scrunched his eyebrows together. “Well, yeah sure. It’s just- he hasn’t missed  _ that _ much has he? He didn’t start too late into the year.”

Will felt a sense of guilt even though he had nothing to be guilty for, perhaps it was because they were talking about Mike when he was literally sat at the back of the class. Will didn’t really understand  _ why _ he was being asked to do this, even though he didn’t mind; a part of him wanted to know.

“That’s correct. He’s just had a hard time adjusting, he’s been walking out of class… getting angry and frustrated and- it would just help us out a lot. This year is important, as you know, and I think he just needs help getting focused.” Mr Kelly explained, and Will nodded along whilst taking the information in. 

Will could tell that Mike was a smart guy - he was writing a book for god’s sake - but maybe there were things going on elsewhere that Will didn’t see. Like in other classes, he thought back to when he walked out of Mr Daniels’ class, and he did sound angry when he heard him in the bathroom stall. It did make sense. Mike sort of seemed like he hated everything, after all. 

But why did he seem so relaxed when he was with Will? 

“And you trust me with this?”

Mr Kelly nodded. “Of course. You’re a good student, Will.” He shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “I mean, I’d do it myself or get another adult but, I just think he needs someone who can understand him better. His own age, you know?” 

“Got it.” Will said, and Mr Kelly sent him a nod and turned around to wipe the chalk off the chalkboard. 

He turned around and looked at Mike, who was suddenly stood up behind him rather than sat in his seat. He had his coat and his backpack on, and he looked at Will blankly. Will almost jumped because he was taken by surprise, but he held it together. He looked up at Mike due to him being a good head taller, his curls fell haphazardly in his eyes; he didn’t bother to move them. 

“So, tutor. When do we start?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phew, just wanna say thanks for all the support and nice comments so far!! i highly appreciate it, i'm gonna try and stick to updating every weekend so we'll see how that goes. let me know what u think of this chapter and stuff :) and if u wanna come say hi on twitter my @ is mikeswiil !


	3. don't worry about me

At the start of the day, Will wouldn’t have guessed he’d be driving Mike Wheeler back to his house after school for a tutoring session. But there he was, sat in the passenger seat of Will’s secondhand car, one foot rested on the dashboard where Will could see just how dirty his black and white converse were. Anyone would’ve told him to move and sit properly, but Will didn’t mind. His car was a mess anyway, and plus, he noticed that Mike always liked to sit in the weirdest positions, so he let him. 

He fiddled through Will’s collection of cassettes that were stashed neatly in one of the compartments between the two seats, as soon as he noticed them there he perked up like a kid in a candy store. His eyes lit up like christmas lights and Will could’ve sworn he had never seen Mike look that happy since he met him. As he pulled a handful into his lap, Will took his eyes off the road for a second to glance at him, he let a quiet laugh escape and felt a small smile tug at the corner of his mouth. He forced himself to look forwards before he started grinning like an idiot. 

“You like music, huh?” Will asked, letting himself breathe out another quiet laugh. 

Mike held a particular cassette up in the air and looked at it as if he was trying to catch the sunlight through it, squinting his eyes. He turned it and looked at the writing scrawled on the side in Will’s messy handwriting. “Who doesn’t?” 

“Good point.” Will shrugged, pulling out of the school parking lot, he turned down the long stretch of road that would eventually lead to his house. The drive never felt like it was time consuming, but with Mike there, Will got a feeling that it was going to feel like a lot longer. 

Mike held up another cassette and examined it, the sleeves of his sweater falling slightly down his arms. Will realised he’d never seen Mike when he wasn’t wearing some kind of sweater. “You have a lot of  _ The Clash.”  _

Will nodded. “Most of those are my brother’s, he used to show me a lot of music and shit. Some I liked and others… not so much.” 

Mike appeared to be the type of person who was very opinionated when it came to music, by the way he seemed to be inspecting each individual tape so hard. Will was surprised he didn’t ask for a magnifying glass because, quite honestly, he looked like he was looking for specs of dust. Will very much prided himself in his music taste and there was nothing in his collection he was ashamed of, so it made his heart fill with a small bit of happiness when Mike looked so interested. 

“Where’s your brother now?” Mike asked, turning to his side for a second to let his eyes rest on Will who had one hand on the steering wheel. He didn’t look for long, but it was enough for Will to feel like his skin was tingling. 

Will cleared his throat. “He works out of town, photography stuff.”

“So being all artistic runs in your family, then?” Mike had asked, opening up one tape case in particular he read through the slip of paper that was wedged inside; a tracklist. Will took another look at what Mike was holding and when he saw it he knew exactly why his throat hitched, he swallowed hard. He didn’t mean to keep that one.

Will shrugged. “You could say that.” 

 

_ Please don’t ask about that tape. _

 

“I wish my family appreciated that sort of stuff more, they think any kind of art is stupid.” Mike sighed, looking at the tracklist closer than he was before. “They’re wrong, though. Well… I think they’re wrong about most things.” 

It seemed that Mike wasn’t going to quiz Will about the tape he was holding too much, so he almost breathed out a sigh of relief. Will couldn’t know, though, because he had decided that you could never know with Mike. One minute he’d act like he didn’t want to give you a second look, and the next he was rambling about god knows what.  _ Maybe that’s just with me, _ Will thought.  _ But why?  _ Will didn’t recall seeing Mike being friendly with anyone else within the past week, so perhaps Will was the only friend he had made. Maybe he was the only friend he wanted to make.  _ Was he like this with his old friends? On and off, on and- _

Will wasn’t sure how to reply, so he thought over it for a few seconds; his mouth opening but shutting as he decided he should say something else. Mike wouldn’t notice anyway, he was still looking at that  _ damn _ tracklist. “I’m sure they’re not wrong about  _ everything.” _

“Parents aren’t supposed to be wrong about  _ most _ things, but mine are.” Mike said, lifting his lanky leg up he placed his other foot on the dashboard; he looked like he was trying to make himself as small as humanly possible. 

It was obvious Mike didn’t have the perfect home life, anybody could guess that. Will had picked up on things he had said to him, dropped casually into conversations and such. He wasn’t  _ worried,  _ he didn’t even know that much about Mike let alone his family so he felt like he didn’t have the right to be, but he told himself he’d keep his ears open for those kind of things. 

Will didn’t get the chance to reply before Mike started speaking again, holding the tape up so Will could see it. “Is this yours or your brother’s?”

 

_ Should I lie? _

 

_ No, lying isn’t good, Will. You found that out the hard way.  _

 

“It’s mine,” Will nodded, glancing at Mike’s hands where the tape was held in one hand and the piece of paper in the other, where there was a numbered list of songs as well as some doodles of stars and planets around them. “I made it for someone a while back.”

“Seems pretty romantic,” Mike commented, a smile playing on his lips. “Who’s the lucky person?” 

Will snickered and then shook his head, looking down at his lap momentarily before placing his eyes back on the road. “They, uh… let’s just say they’re not around anymore.” 

It went quiet for a few moments then, like there were a million thoughts and unanswered questions hanging in the air. Questions that begged for answers from both boys, but they just left them hanging, and they couldn’t see themselves getting them down and putting them into place anytime soon. Maybe someday, but not now. The quiet atmosphere wasn’t tense, nor was it awkward. Will could practically feel Mike’s thoughtful gaze on the right side of his body though, and he found himself wondering if Mike was just as curious as he was. But Will didn’t have anything that interesting to hide, he was sure Mike had far more things stashed away in a part of his mind labelled  _ confidential.  _

Will would never ask, though, but he just knew. He just knew there were so many things that Mike was keeping to himself. There was nothing wrong with that, of course, he just seemed to have so much more mystery in the air around him than the average person. What Will wouldn’t do, was make it his mission to figure him out. He may have wanted to at first, but he decided Mike would tell him things if  _ he _ ever wanted to, because after all it was his decision to make. 

Truthfully, they weren’t even good friends. Will knew that.

 

_ Maybe we could be. _

 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Mike dropped his hands into his lap and his voice was full of sympathy, Will wasn’t sure he deserved it. 

“It was a long time ago so it doesn’t really matter, don’t worry about it.” Will shrugged, his mind flicking back to someone else in the passenger seat. Honey coloured hair catching the sun so much so that the owner of that hair became it, the corners of a pair of pink lips pulled up into a smile, eyes squeezed shut, doubled over, laughing, breathing… loving.

It was nice while it lasted. 

Then it was Mike again. “I’m sure it matters.” He gave Will a closed mouth smile, then he proceeded to try and put the tracklist back where he found it. Dark, jet black, messy hair, curls going in every angle possible. Brown eyes that were patient and wondering, a little bit lost, but there, looking at Will. Interested, reserved, but  _ there.  _ He was there, and he mattered. 

“I try to tell myself it doesn’t.” Will said, more to himself. 

Will knew that Mike changed the subject for his benefit, and he tried not to thank him out loud. “So, what did Mr Kelly tell you, then?”

Will shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “Just told me you needed some help with studying, catching up and stuff.”

“Did he- uh, did he say anything else?”

Will wasn’t sure if he should say everything that his social studies teacher had told him, because maybe he wasn’t meant to know. He was sure it wasn’t a huge deal, though. After all, he didn’t tell him  _ that _ much. “I think he said something about anger, but I don’t know why he was telling me.” 

“Great,” Mike sighed to himself, pulling at his sleeves he looked out of the passenger window for a few moments, watching the shades of green zoom past in a blur. He looked like he wanted to blur himself into them, never to be seen again. “Sorry, Will.”

Obviously he didn’t want to talk about it.

“I don’t know what you’re apologising for.” Will said, slowing the car down so he could turn onto a different road. 

Mike turned his head back to Will. “Well, I’ve been really distant since the arcade so… I’m sorry.” 

Again, it was strange how Mike went from curiously asking Will a bunch of questions to… that. It was weird, it was like a certain type of mood that only Mike would show, and nobody else could. Other people could be sad, angry, annoyed… but Mike was just different. Will wasn’t sure how to describe it, it was like his mind had some sort of block. He understood that, though, because just looking at Mike was enough to blur his thoughts. 

“It’s okay, Mike.” Will shrugged. “I missed talking to you, though.” 

Will had no idea why he said that out loud, he just felt like he needed to remind Mike that people cared about him and didn’t mind giving their time to talk to him. Quite honestly, Will would admit that he’d sit and listen to Mike talk for hours if he wanted to, and sometimes he looked like he needed to. Hidden beneath those words was a confirmation of friendship, like Will had just asked if they were friends without having to directly say it. He admitted that they didn’t know each other all that well, but they would have to now, whether they liked it or not. 

“You’re soft, Byers.” Mike breathed out a laugh, and Will could tell his statement made Mike relax a bit. He punched Will in the arm lightly, causing Will to let out a laugh too. “I just saw someone I didn’t want to see and it put me in a bad mood, for the whole week.” 

“Nothing wrong with being a softie,” Will shrugged. He admitted that he was a  _ soft _ and kind hearted person, but he knew he was tough more than anything. He wouldn’t let anyone forget that. “Who’d you see?” 

Mike picked up one more tape, flipping it over in his fingers. “As you said, William, it doesn’t matter.” 

 

_ I’m sure it does matter.  _

 

Before Will had the chance to say anything else, Mike held the tape in the space between the two seats as if he was asking for permission. Will could see the hopeful smile on his face out of the corner of his eye as he said, “Can I play it?” 

“Go ahead, Michael.” 

Will decided that calling each other by their full names was definitely their thing now.

Mike let his feet fall off the dashboard and he leaned forward, he pushed the tape in with his slender hands and once the car had consumed it, he leant back and crossed his sweater clad arms over his chest. Will knew the exact song a second after it started playing, and he felt a smile tug at his lips; so he let himself smile this time. Mike looked proud of himself, like he’d picked the right song after all of that tape inspecting. Will knew that they’d arrive at his house soon, before the song ended, but he would wait in the car with Mike until it had finished. Just because Mike looked so goddamn happy. 

_ “We can be heroes, just for one day.” _

It was only very quiet, and very under his breath, but Will could hear Mike singing along to one of his favourite Bowie songs as it played at a moderate volume in his run down car. Will smiled, because Mike knew it. Not a lot of people knew this music, and his friends didn’t particularly enjoy it when he would play it, but Mike knew it. He was singing it.  _ That _ made Will smile like an idiot. 

As Will approached his driveway, he realised something. In the moments where they didn’t speak, just sitting there appreciating the song, Will thought over their conversations. He realised that Mike had done something that no one had ever done before, well, not without  _ knowing _ about Will anyway.

 

_ Who’s the lucky person? _

 

Not girl, not lady… there were no assumptions.

 

_ Person. _

 

_ He said person. _

 

He’d never heard anyone ask a question in that way before, it was pretty much unheard of. Even his friends asked if there were any girls he was crushing on before he even came out to them, but Mike didn’t. Even if he did, Will probably would’ve told him anyway, he didn’t have anything to hide in that sense, and he was sure he wouldn’t drop him  _ just like that _ over it. Mike didn’t seem like that sort of person. 

Why did he say it differently, though? What would’ve made him stop and think about what he was going to ask before he asked it?  _ Maybe, _ Will thought,  _ maybe he’s- _

 

_ No, he can’t be. _

 

He wished he could put a bright red stop sign in front of his thoughts, and he did. He had no right to think about stuff like that, it was selfish. Besides, Mike was probably just being nice. 

 

_ Yeah,  _ Will thought,  _ he’s just being nice. _

 

**-**

  
  


Mike acted very differently around adults. 

Well, everyone did, really. It was like second nature, or like a switch you could turn on and off. Obviously you weren't going to act like you do around your closest friends in front of your own parents, or any other adult for that matter. But, as always, Mike was different. As soon as he and Will crossed the threshold into the house he seemed to switch off - or on, maybe - Will didn’t know, but something seemed to change; and for a moment he wasn’t the same Mike he was sat in the car with just moments before. 

Maybe Will was just too observant, and it didn’t even matter. Perhaps his eyes were deceiving him and nothing changed. Will knew he could be like that a lot of the time, so he didn’t really think too much into it. Mike was just quieter than usual, and there was an amount of skepticism somewhere within him as he was introduced to Joyce (Will’s mother) and she offered them food and drinks. 

Joyce would overdo it sometimes, and Will would tell her to  _ cool it _ because most of the time he and his friends didn’t need her to go out and buy a different type of juice, or give them more blankets to warm them up… or any of that, really. But she liked doing it, because it made her feel good, providing for Will and his friends was just something she thought she was good at, and Will knew she always had been. 

It wasn’t that Mike was intimidated by her obsessive fussing, it was more like he didn’t trust any adult whatsoever until he had a perfectly good reason to. Which was bad, really, because adults (especially parents) should be people that are easily trusted and you don’t feel like you need to ensure that they pass a certain test in your mind before you even speak to them. 

Because Mike didn’t speak to Joyce. Not a word. 

She had a late shift at work that night, though, so she made sure both boys were okay and then she left, not before giving Will a quick kiss to the head. He felt momentarily embarrassed, but that feeling soon followed his mom out of the door and then he was left with Mike in the silence. 

Mike was awkwardly stood with his hand rested on the back of one of the patterned dining room table chairs, he seemed to be stood with one foot firmly on the ground, and his other leg crossed over, his foot angled down to the floor where he rested the front of his shoe. He stared at the clock on the wall, its slender hand slowly ticking by and each second the room was filled with the sound of it. It was the only sound for a little longer, as Will tried not to make it obvious he was observing him with patient eyes. He fixed his eyes on the window for a bit, but he could still see Mike, who looked incredibly uneasy. His whole body language screamed it. 

It was at this point that Will realised he had no idea how to be a tutor. 

“What do you want to start with, then?” Will had asked, crossing his arms across his chest he leaned back against the counter. 

Mike shrugged, and then stood up straight before pulling the chair he was gripping onto out and plopping himself down in it. “You tell me.” 

“Well, what do you  _ need _ to start with?” 

Mike leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. “I have no idea, if I’m honest.”

Will shook his head and then jokingly rolled his eyes. “Helpful.”

“Hey!” Mike interjected. “You’re the tutor here, you lead the way.” 

“But I’ve never even tutored anyone before, so that’s an issue.” Will confessed, he dragged his feet across the floor and when he made it to the chair opposite Mike’s, he sat down and mimicked his sitting position. 

Mike then leaned forward and rested his head in his palm as his elbow leant on the chipped table. “Then why did you agree to help me?” 

Will’s breath got caught in his throat, and he wondered…  _ why did I agree? I wouldn’t do this for anyone…  _

“Because you’re my friend.” Will answered simply, not sure how else he could put it. Yeah, he was his friend, he’d decided that earlier - well, assumed - and that was a good enough reason to  _ try _ and help, right?

Will could see that a smile had tugged at the corner of Mike’s lips, and that he had tried to hide it, so he wouldn’t point it out. “I am?” 

 

_ Why does he look so surprised? _

 

“Well, I mean- yeah. We are. Is that okay with you?” Will started to stumble over his words, but then he put himself back in his place and managed to look directly at Mike without falling out of his chair. He seemed to make everything far more difficult for Will than it would be with anyone else. 

Mike looked at Will thoughtfully then, like he was making a final verdict, and Will felt somewhat judged. He could very well just turn around and say  _ no _ and then he’d leave Will wondering every reason why. It was a look that read  _ can I trust you? _ And Will tried to send one back saying  _ yes, you can.  _ Will assumed it was a trust thing, anyway, and he could guess that Mike hadn’t had very good experiences with friends in the past, so maybe had a perfectly good reason to look so thoughtful. By that look, though, Will felt as if Mike suddenly knew everything about him without him even telling him, and that scared him. 

“Yeah.” Mike eventually nodded. “That’s more than okay.” 

Will tried not to breathe out a sigh of relief, or smile to himself at that small sign of progress. It was a good feeling, because he felt like Mike could be  _ his _ friend. Of course he had friends, but all of his friends seemed to be closer with someone else, they’d always prioritise hanging out with someone else over Will. He was never anybody’s first choice, not that he had ever desperately wanted to be, but it had just become more and more apparent in the last few months and it made him feel… left out. Maybe Mike could be  _ his person _ . 

 

_ Don’t be ridiculous, Will. _

 

It wasn’t that Will wanted to be anything more than friends, that would be stupid, he just wanted to be  _ really good _ friends. He’d be the first person Mike would call if he needed a friend, they’d hang out and watch movies, they’d share their favourite music with each other, go to the arcade together, go to stupid high school parties together, Will would give Mike a ride to school if he ever needed, he’d give him discounts on rentals at the video store where he worked, they’d plan to go to the same college… 

All that other stuff - that relationship stuff - could wait until he actually went to college, he didn’t need that now. He had great friends, he had a  _ new _ friend; that was good enough for him. He’d get his grades, and then get out. Everything would be fine. 

At least, that was what he hoped for.

Will decided that he would attempt to show Mike some of the work he had missed, and they wouldn’t go too far into anything since it was only the first time they’d done this. He expected there would be many more, so he’d be able to get him caught up in no time, and then they could study together. Will remembered Mr Kelly saying something about helping Mike focus, but he wasn’t even sure how to approach that. He didn’t even know why Mike was supposedly unfocused, and he couldn’t see himself finding out. He decided that he shouldn’t worry about it too much, just being his friend would help, right? 

So they sat at the dining room table, various papers with handwritten notes on sprawled across the surface. Mike chewed on the end of his pencil, his fingers tapped an unknown beat and his leg bounced up and down as he stared down at the math problem in front of him. He’d been looking at it for a good few minutes, and Will worked on a piece of his own homework as he waited for Mike to finish. Then, it looked like a genius thought had hit him and he began frantically writing equations all over the paper. This had happened a few times now, it was like he had to think everything over, and when he got going there was no stopping him. Will guessed that would be how he would write, too. It takes you awhile, but once you get going, you’ve suddenly filled out three pages and you can’t even remember having a block in your mind. 

Will debated asking Mike about the anger, because he seemed rather focused then. Eyes squinted, elbow rested on the table, forehead in his hand… they were all signs of immense concentration. It could’ve been down to the fact that they were sat in the quiet with no other students around and Will kept looking at him, he was sure he felt his gaze, but he chose not to say anything about it. Will didn’t ask, and assumed he was doing a good job at helping him already. 

Dark ringlets of hair fell in Mike’s eyes when he adjusted his sitting position and he dropped his left arm to his side, and Will wondered why he didn’t move it out of the way. It did look extremely annoying, and Will would have moved it himself if it wasn’t considered a completely weird thing to do. Almost subconsciously, Will began to doodle at the bottom of his page. He did it all the time when he got sidetracked, he didn’t even have to think about it sometimes, it just came out of him and he’d draw whatever was on his mind. The sound of shading with graphite was almost too loud, drowning out the ticking clock and Mike’s rhythmic taps. 

Will felt himself slouched in his seat as he became engulfed by the small sketch, and it took him until he was finished to realise that he’d been drawing a boy. Freckles under the eyes, dark curls, a sad smile.

It took him until he was finished to realise that he’d been drawing Mike. 

He quickly picked up the paper and crushed it between his hands. Not caring that it had his homework on, he threw it towards the trash to his left and it successfully landed within the rest of the waste.

 

_ Nope. Not happening. _

 

Will knew that Mike was looking at him, he felt his gaze on him like the sun in August. He ignored it though, pretending he didn’t notice. The noise of the paper must’ve brought Mike out of his thought process and he didn’t look like he was prepared to continue with his work anytime soon. He dropped his pencil to the table and sighed, resting both elbows on the table he rubbed his hands over his face and then pushed his hair back when he looked down to the paper. Maybe he could only focus for so long before he broke. 

“Hey,” Will said, breaking their long silence, his voice slightly scratchy after not using it for a good hour. Mike looked up and Will met his tired eyes, he looked  _ completely _ exhausted. “We can stop, if you want.” 

Mike breathed out a sigh of relief, and he slouched back in his chair as his shoulders. “That sounds good, because I’m about to pass out.” 

“You could’ve stopped before, you know.” Will laughed lightly, and Mike just shrugged. 

“I know.” 

Will looked at Mike for a few moments then, debating a question in his mind. Eventually it just slipped out. “Do you not get much sleep or something?” 

As if on cue, Mike yawned and lifted his hand to cover his mouth. When he was done, he let his hand drop to his side again. Will wondered if that was his answer as he didn’t speak for a few moments then. 

“Sleep might as well be my worst enemy,” Mike shrugged, and then laughed quietly to himself. Will wasn’t sure if he should laugh along. “I’m always tired, but I can barely sleep. It sucks but I’ve learnt to live with it.” 

Will didn’t want to push the issue too much. “Do you get nightmares?”

“Something like that.” Mike shrugged again. 

Lost in the silence for a little while after that, Will found himself wondering about Mike’s lack of sleep. He pondered on reasons why, what sort of nightmares he could be experiencing… but eventually he just let his mind go quiet too. It was alright, really, because the silence between Mike and him wasn’t an awkward one, even if they were newly found friends. It was on the wavelength of comforting, and Will thought that if he ever needed some alone time to think, he wouldn’t mind Mike being there too. 

Eventually, Will had suggested that they watch a movie, since they’d called it a day on the tutoring by that point. He was proud of the collection of VHS tapes he had put together over the past years. Working at the video store had its perks, and getting the new releases as soon as possible was one of them. He and Mike ended up in the Byers’ living room after they packed all of their studying material away, sat on the carpeted floor leaning against the sofa rather than just sitting on it like everyone else would. 

Will had shown Mike his collection, and he let him decide since he was the guest. It took him a while to look through, his fingers running over the edges of each one as he read their respective titles. Eventually, as soon as his eyes caught a copy of  _ The Breakfast Club _ , he pulled it right out and told Will he had made his decision, some kind of triumphant smile playing on his lips. Will didn’t expect him to pick that one out, but he wasn’t complaining. It was one of his favourite movies, and clearly it was one of Mike’s too. 

It had been playing for a few minutes, and Will took a look at Mike who was sat with his knees pulled up to his chest, his eyes peered over them and Will could tell he was smiling. Even though the main light was on, he could still see the light from the screen playing on Mike’s facial features. For once, he looked like a bundle of happiness, there on Will’s living room floor, with Will, watching his favourite movie. Maybe he’d forgotten about everything that was bothering him, and Will was seeing a different Mike. A Mike who didn’t look so anxious all the time. 

Mike ended up turning around and seeing Will looking at him, Will decided not to look away and let himself witness how Mike became partially embarrassed. “What? What are you looking at, William?”

“Nothing,” Will shrugged nonchalantly. “You just look happier than you usually do.” 

He wasn’t wrong, Mike had a tendency to act like he hated everything and everyone most of the time. Either that, or extremely…  _ depressed.   _

“Well, this  _ is _ my favourite movie.” Mike looked at the screen again, and then looked back to Will. 

Will nodded, leaning sideways slightly he rested his arm against the blanket that was folded over the sofa. “It’s a pretty good choice.” He pulled one leg up to his chest. “Who’s your favourite character?” 

Mike then looked thoughtful, like this decision would mean life or death. Little things like this seemed to be highly important to him for some reason. “Bender, mostly because I feel like I can relate sometimes… but Claire is cool too. And Brian.” 

Will decided not to think too hard about as to why Mike could relate to that particular character, he just nodded. “I think you’d make a good Bender.” 

“Really?” Mike asked, looking like he was about to laugh. “I don’t know, I’m too clumsy to pull off that whole  _ bad boy _ vibe. I’m a huge nerd to be honest, I’m more of a Brian.” 

“You  _ could _ make a good Bender, trust me.” Will said, very defiant in the way in which he spoke, leaving Mike no space to argue with him. 

He imagined Mike wearing those clothes, and he could see it really clearly. The plaid shirt, the denim jacket… everything. Maybe it was because he was all tall and lanky, and he had messy hair. Or perhaps it was because he seemed so shady and secretive sometimes, and he was supposedly angry. Will hadn’t seen that yet. He wondered if he ever would. 

Will didn’t think before he let himself speak this time, he momentarily forgot he was with Mike and felt like he was sat there having a conversation with someone like Max instead. “You know, when this movie first came out, I had like this weird crush on him and it was-” 

He stopped talking when he realised what he had said, and Mike was looking at him with some sort of smile and raised eyebrows. “Go on,” Mike nodded. “Continue.” 

Will had reached a point where he didn’t mind people knowing that he liked boys, but the way it just slipped out so casually when he was with Mike made his head hurt. That had never happened before, and Mike didn’t even question it, he just looked… he looked the same. Perhaps a little more intrigued, but the same. 

“Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.” Will laughed lightly, putting one of his hands to his forehead. “Well, I guess that’s something else you know about me now. I don’t really try to hide it anymore.” 

“Nothing to apologise for, talk about crushes all you want.” Mike shrugged, like everything was completely ordinary. Clearly it was not, Will had received a wide range of reactions in the past, but none of them were ever like this. Not one. 

Will scrunched his eyebrows together and then looked at Mike thoughtfully. “That’s it?” 

“What?” Mike asked, looking momentarily confused. 

“You’re not gonna… say I’m disgusting and ignore me forever? Or the complete opposite, the whole  _ ‘Oh, I always knew! I’m so proud! Blah, blah, blah…’ _ thing?” Will explained, using his hands for emphasis when he was explaining. Although one outcome was better than the other, Will didn’t particularly like either.

Mike just shrugged. Again. “You like guys, and that’s great.” Mike let his legs fall so they stretched out in front of him. “You never know, so that’s why I never assume.” 

Will felt a bubble of happiness rising in his chest, he felt so at peace because it was the first time someone had treated it like it was the most normal thing in the world. It made Will feel like he could levitate, he felt  _ that _ good about himself. That was what he needed, he needed someone to just treat it like it was ordinary, so he didn’t feel  _ so _ different from everyone else. He knew he was different, and he prided himself in that, but sometimes it got to the point where he felt like he didn’t belong. So by Mike reacting like this, Will felt like he belonged. 

 

_ You never know, so that’s why I never assume. _

 

_ Why can’t everyone think like that? _

 

“Thank you.” Will said, not really knowing what else to say but he knew he had to show Mike that he was thankful for his words. He’d keep them in the back of his mind, and he’d think about them to cheer himself up. 

“You don’t need to thank me, Will. I’m just doing what everyone else should.” 

“But they don’t, so I want to thank you for being the first. The first one to treat it so… casually.” Will explained, watching Mike mindlessly fiddle with the sleeves of his sweater. 

Mike smiled, and it was a genuine smile. Not that all of his other smiles weren’t, this one was just purely from the heart. His top row of teeth showed, slightly crooked but they looked good paired with his smile. “Of course, let this be the start of a new movement.” Then, he held out a pinky finger to Will, a promise hanging in the air. “To never assuming.” 

Will looked at Mike curiously, trying to think over every interaction that they’d ever had. Mike was surely different, he’d known that since he first met him. He was told all sorts of things about him, how he was unfocused, angry, weird… But Will felt like he had seen everything but. He saw Mike as patient, perhaps quiet, but understanding. Especially after this. He didn’t know why, perhaps he was seeing a side to Mike that no one else did. 

Why would it be Will, though? Out of everyone, why Will? Someone he’d only just met, someone he barely knew. He understood that Mike didn’t really know anyone else as of yet, and he wondered why. Maybe he didn’t want to, maybe Will was  _ enough _ for him.

Will leaned forward so he could reach Mike’s outstretched hand, and he connected their pinky fingers, they both gripped on tight. Will repeated what Mike had said like it was a sacred oath. 

“Never assuming.” 

 

**-**

 

Mike didn’t want to go home. 

He’d forgotten about everything for a few hours, when he was with Will, but it came to a point where the movie had ended and it was getting late, so he would have to make his way back. He hadn’t told his parents he was going to be out that night either, so they were bound to be more  _ pissed off _ than usual. He began preparing himself for their lectures as soon as he left Will’s house, after kindly refusing his offer to give him a ride there, he waved him goodbye and began walking to his house.

It would take longer to walk, so that meant less time at home, cooped up in his room trying to ignore everything. Staring at unpacked boxes that were just a constant reminder as to why they ended up in that empty house in the first place, a constant reminder of what happened. The house was too big, it felt more like a building where Mike just survived, he didn’t  _ live _ there. He could never live there, he just stayed there, walking around in the spare empty rooms when no one was home. Pacing, thinking, thinking over  _ everything.  _

 

_ You’re so  _ fucking _ stupid, Mike. _

 

_ This is all your fault.  _

 

_ Everything would be fine if it weren’t for you.  _

 

His head sank to look at the asphalt beneath his feet, which he practically dragged across the sidewalk so he would go slower. He stopped a few times to lean against a lamp post, right in the centre of the ring of light it provided. He took a few breaths, and then continued, as slow as possible. He was aware he would probably make everything worse by doing this, but he was already late, so technically it shouldn’t make a difference. Then again, they would’ve at least  _ tried _ to find him if they cared so much. 

He knew they didn’t, so what was the point?

He wasn’t quite sure how he found his way home, since he’d only lived in Hawkins for just over a week and he didn’t know his way around all that well. He just kept walking, not expecting to eventually stumble across his  _ allocated building.  _ Will’s house was closer to his than he thought, and he found himself wishing they were much further away from each other. Maybe he could just walk back to Will’s, and then walk back again… about seven times. Yeah, that would do it. 

He knew he should face it though, he knew he would have to. He stood at the end of the driveway next to the rusty mailbox and took a shaky breath, he then began making his way to the door, the gravel crunching under his feet. He wished a hole would just open and he would be sucked into the ground, never to be seen again. He wondered if his parents would care. 

Truthfully, the only person he could see being upset by his death at that moment, was Will. 

He stood in front of the door, looking at it made him feel sick to the stomach. He felt a small amount of rage building up inside of him, but he held it together. He’d been so calm today, he felt so normal for once, everything felt alright. But now, staring at that white door, he felt his blood start to boil. He tried not to ball up his fists, he tried not to bite his lip so hard that it bled. He tried not to be angry. 

He thought about sitting in Will’s living room, watching his favourite movie, laughing and joking. He thought about  _ his friend.  _ He thought about how confident he was, how comfortable he was with himself, how he was so welcoming, how he actually cared more than anyone else did. 

The anger subsided for a moment, and he finally felt calm enough to knock on the door without punching a hole in it. He knocked three times, almost silently, hoping no one would hear and he would just get left outside, but within a few seconds he was greeted with the anxiety ridden face of his mother. She opened the door wide, and when she caught sight of Mike she sighed of relief, folding her arms across her chest. She didn’t let him in yet. 

“Ted,” She called, turning behind for a few seconds. “He’s back.” 

Mike heard a muffled response coming from a different room, and his mother stepped aside so he could make his way in. He dragged his feet against the floor and his head hung low, he planned on making his way to his room straight away. He thought he had gotten away with it for a moment, but he was stopped. 

“Where have you been?” His mother asked, Mike stopped in his tracks and then turned around, still avoiding her gaze. He saw his father appear from the kitchen, and he leaned against the doorway that he was closest to, looking down on Mike. He made him feel so small, like he was shrinking more and more by the second.

He avoided looking at both of them. “Out.” 

“Out where, Michael?”

“Just out.” Mike mumbled, one hand on the stair banister, ready to go and hide in his room. 

He felt his father looking at him, he didn’t have to return it to know that he looked disappointed, angry, like he couldn’t believe his own son would do this. Trying to make Mike feel ashamed of himself at any opportunity there was for it. 

“Better not be sneaking around with-” he started, his voice raising with every word. Mike kept his eyes fixed on the floor. He didn’t need this now.

Thankfully, his mother stopped him from finishing his sentence. She was more sympathetic and understanding, but sometimes they were just as bad as each other. “Ted.” She said firmly, looking to her side but not making eye contact. “Mike, you can’t just not come home without letting us know.” 

“I’m sorry,” Mike shrugged. “Someone was tutoring me, if you must know.”

“Who?”

“A friend.” Mike said, wanting to keep his answers as short as possible. He didn’t like talking anymore, he just wanted to sleep. He knew he couldn’t. 

It was quiet for a few moments, the silence was thick and uncomfortable and it made Mike feel like he couldn’t breathe. The judgemental glares of both of his parents didn’t help, he felt like he was being pulled apart and examined, bit by bit. They’d already broken him, so that was a start. 

“All of this is your doing, you understand that. Don’t you, Michael?” his father said, making it clear that it was his aim to make his own son feel guilty for something so _ stupid.  _

“Yes.” Mike mumbled. 

“And you know why?”

“Yes.”

“And you won’t do it again?”

“No.”

“Good, because I won’t have a  _ disgusting-” _

Mike knew what he was going to say. He didn’t want to hear it, he threw his school bag onto the floor and all the books in there made a loud enough noise to shut his father up. He felt like he was going to punch something if he didn’t get out of there, so he ran up the stairs and quickly locked himself in his room. He felt hot tears welling up in his eyes, he leant against the back of his door and then slid to the ground, the tears threatening to spill over at any moment.

 

_ Don’t be a fucking baby, you’ve cried enough.  _

 

_ Pull yourself together.  _

 

He couldn’t believe how he could go from feeling so happy and relaxed to feeling so… angry and upset with himself. He was mad at his parents, but he was more mad at himself. They made sure of that. He pulled his knees to his chest and let his hands ball up into fists, he tried to refrain from punching anything by digging his nails into his flesh. He breathed in and out slowly and shakily, but it wasn’t helping. 

So he did the only thing he could think of, he grabbed his black notebook off his bedside table and opened it to where he was last writing. He read over it, feeling himself calm down slowly, his eyes scanned over the words and he was reminded of the very reason why he was coping. Why he hadn’t completely given up yet. The characters he had immersed himself in, his ideal world right there on paper, but that paper was fragile, much like himself.

He grabbed his pen, bringing it down to the paper, he picked up where he left off. His handwriting was messy, shaky, but meaningful. It was  _ there, _ and it mattered.

 

_ He was the only person he could bear to talk to… _

 

He thought about why he hadn’t given up. He thought about everything, he thought about when he was happy. For the first time in a long time.

 

_...and his smile gave him hope. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’d appreciate it greatly if i could get some feedback, it keeps me going :) thanks for all the support so far !!


	4. feel something

Will had thought about a lot of things over the weekend, from his old cassette tapes to accidentally confessing that he liked boys to someone he barely knew. It slipped out so easily, like a bar of soap slipping out of your hands, and Mike didn’t seem phased by it at all. When drinking his Sunday morning coffee, Will wondered if there was a reason why Mike reacted the way he did; he wondered if he understood. 

In the shower, mid-way through scrubbing his hair with his coconut shampoo, jets of hot water against his back, he wondered why Mike didn’t speak a word to his mother. Sat at the dining table with her later that day, he thought about how they sat there a few days before. Mindlessly drawing something stupid and then throwing it away. Doing his homework, sat on the floor in the living room using the coffee table as his desk, he thought about when Mike looked happy for once. 

Will wished he could see him that happy more often. 

It was the following Monday when Mike decided to approach Will’s lunch table, when he finally accepted his offer. Will had been hoping he would do it, somewhere inside him, but he would never admit that to himself. They were all seated in their usual places, everything was normal: casual bickering from Dustin and Lucas, Max teasing Will whenever she got the chance, El not really paying attention; but sometimes Max would turn to her and they’d start whispering about god knows what, like they always did. 

Everything had gone quiet between the group for a few moments, but then suddenly, Dustin looked up from his food and clicked his fingers. “Did you guys hear about that Halloween party? Apparently everyone’s invited.” He let his hand drop to the table, making the cutlery rattle with the movement. “We  _ have  _ to go. We better start planning consumes now, or else we’re gonna look-”

“Woah, Dustin. Slow down.” Max started, she let her foot fall to the floor after it had previously rested on her chair. “I haven’t heard about this party, who’s throwing it?” 

“You  _ haven’t _ heard about it? Literally everyone’s talking about it, you live under a rock I swear.” Dustin scoffed and then rolled his eyes. “Jennifer Hayes is throwing it.”

Lucas turned to look at Dustin who was sat next to him. “Seriously? How are people like  _ us _ gonna survive in a party like  _ that _ ?” 

“Don’t be a pussy, Lucas.” Dustin said, a knowing look playing on his face. “It’s senior year, it’s probably the last high school Halloween party we’ll get to go to. If we’re invited, we might as well go.” 

Lucas sighed and then shrugged, defeated. “Fine, but  _ no _ stupid costume ideas this year. That’s all I’m saying.” 

Dustin smiled triumphantly and then turned to Max and El, looking hopeful. “What about you guys?” 

Max looked at El for a few seconds, who wasn’t paying attention whatsoever, she was just poking at her food. Max then turned her gaze back to Dustin, answering for the both of them. “Yeah, we’re in.” 

“Great!” Dustin then looked at Will, who was doing the same thing as El, but he was listening in to the conversation so he knew what they were talking about. “My dear Will, what do you say?” 

Despite what a lot of people may have thought, Will did like parties; to an extent. He loved spending the time with his friends, drinking and dancing stupidly to music that was far too mainstream for his taste. They’d all been to a few during their time at high school, and they were all their own experience. They all had their different stories to tell once they were over. Will had taken care of each of his friends at some point, because he was the least affected by alcohol, and he would never forget some of the things that were said to him. 

 

_ Will, do you think ducks have feelings? _

 

_ I just don’t understand why the word queue is just the letter Q followed by four silent letters, who even decided that? _

 

_ I used to have this  _ huge  _ crush on you, you know? But I don’t now. _

 

_ Do you think Dustin would kiss me if I asked him to? _

 

_ Look, I can hold my breath for three minutes! _

 

_ Did you fall from heaven? Because you look like an angle. Wait, no, I meant angel. Is this not math class? _

 

_ Will, how did you find out you were gay? Because I think I  _ really  _ like- _

 

Long story short, Will remembered everything about everyone. It was like he had a store in the back of his brain for all of those things. He was observant and thoughtful, but he’d never mention anything to anybody about the things he knew. He’d just keep them to himself, even if it was something stupid like asking if ducks had feelings.

“Well, why not?” Will shrugged, eventually deciding that there would be no harm in going. He wondered if he should invite Mike, but he had a feeling inside of him that told him that Mike didn’t like parties, and he wouldn’t go to one even if his life depended on it. He could be wrong, but he was pretty sure he was right. 

Dustin beamed, and it was the kind of smile that looked like it was impossible to break. “So it’s settled. Halloween party, and then afterwards we stay over at…” 

“I think it’s actually Will’s turn.” Max answered the question that Dustin hadn’t said out loud yet, and then he nodded. 

“Oh, yeah. Will, are you cool with that?” 

Will shrugged, not seeing any problem with letting the rest of them stay over. “Yeah, I mean, do I even get a say in it anyway?”

“No, you do not.” Dustin pointed out. 

El looked up, deciding to join in the conversation, she looked at Will. “Are you gonna invite your friend?” 

Will knew she was talking about Mike, but he didn’t want to answer the question too eagerly to give off any wrong impressions. “Huh?” 

“Your friend. The new kid.” El clarified, and then suddenly all eyes were on Will. He didn’t know why he felt like he was going to blush.

“Oh, yeah. I can ask him but I’m not sure he’ll come.” Will shrugged. 

Will wondered how El knew about them being friends, but then he thought that she must’ve seen them in the arcade. Maybe Max told her to go and see where he was since he had been gone so long, and El saw them, and probably told Max that he looked like he was busy. He did tell them that he had spoken to him the once but he never said that they were  _ friends _ or anything like that. He thought he was probably reading too much into it, it didn’t really matter.

“Wait, you guys are friends? When did that happen?” Lucas asked.

Will shrugged, wishing the topic of conversation would just magically change. “I’m helping him with catching up and stuff, that’s all.” 

“So he’s not a spy then?” Dustin jumped in, looking slightly disappointed.

Will sighed. “No, Dustin. He’s not a spy, he’s actually really cool. And before you say anything, no I  _ don’t  _ like him like that.” He blurted out, realising that he might have made it seem like the opposite by jumping to conclusions so fast. He knew what his friends were like, though. So it was better to put that out there right at the start so he didn’t have to deal with any embarrassments. Because he didn’t like him like that.

Not in the slightest. 

“Woah, okay. I hear you.” Dustin nodded, and then looked at Will through squinted eyes as if he was trying to read him. Either that, or he was trying to indirectly say  _ I don’t believe you.  _

“You  _ were _ kind of smiling to yourself when you told me about him the other day.” Max shrugged, and Will felt like shoving her right out of her seat. Also, he hated how he blushed so easily, it didn’t take much for him to go as red as a tomato. 

“Can I not be friends with a guy without you guys doing  _ this _ every single time?” Will rolled his eyes. This wasn’t the first time this had happened. 

Lucas looked at Will with mock offence, ignoring the last thing he said. “Wait... Max knew? Before we did?” He scoffed. “You have a new friend, you tell  _ all _ of us.”

“It’s not even a big deal, okay? I said he could come and sit with us, but he hasn’t yet. So I guess you guys will just have to wait until he does.” Will shrugged, turning his attention back to his food. He didn’t realise the others were looking at someone who was stood behind him, holding back their laughter. 

“Is now a good time, William?” 

Will almost choked on his drink.

He dropped his fork on the table and then turned around in his seat. Mike was stood there, tray of food held in his hands with his backpack slung over one shoulder. He wasn’t wearing a sweater this time, which came as a surprise; he wore a dark grey shirt with a grey and black flannel that seemed way too big for his slim frame. 

It hung loosely around his arms, and Will realised that this was the first time he had seen him wearing a colour other than black. His hair was more tamed today, but it was still a mess of curls. It was out of his eyes more than usual, so Will could see them looking down at him with a hint of amusement as he stood there, waiting for his reply. 

“Of course.” Will nodded, and then gestured to the empty seat that was to his left. Everyone at the table seemed to be looking at him curiously or they were smiling way too much. Will hoped that they wouldn’t scare him off. 

It wasn’t that he had been waiting so long for Mike to actually take up his offer, he was just happy that he had finally decided to meet the rest of his friends. He could guess that Mike found it hard to talk to people he didn’t really know, so he was glad he was trying. Will knew he couldn’t be his  _ only _ friend, and he knew his friends would be good to him. So even though he felt slightly embarrassed that Mike had heard him talking about him, he felt pretty good about the whole situation. 

“Nice to meet you, Mike.” Max nodded in his direction. “We’ve heard a lot about you.” 

Suddenly Will just wanted to yell at her to tell her to shut up. 

“You have?” Mike looked puzzled, and then he glanced at Will who simply shrugged. 

“Don’t worry, nothing bad.” Lucas added, looking at Will for a few moments. 

“Anyway,” Dustin started, and Will was thankful he changed the subject. “Welcome to this band of weirdos, I’m Dustin. This is Lucas, Max, and that’s El. You know good ‘ol William, obviously.” 

He introduced everyone respectively, and they all sent him a nod, apart from El who stared down at the book she was reading and gave a small wave. He looked at Will briefly when he was mentioned, a discreet smile on his lips. Will didn’t know that this was the first time Mike had felt  _ okay _ in days. He could tell he looked relaxed, after realising that Will’s friends were pretty chilled out, and they seemed like they cared, too. 

“They call you William too, huh?” Mike asked Will, who couldn’t really tell if he was smirking or not. 

Will just shrugged. “Not really. They’re probably only doing it because you did.” 

“Right, yeah. That’s my thing, isn’t it?” Mike punched Will in the arm lightly, and the touch made Will very hyper aware of his whole body.

“Well if you’re claiming it then... I guess so.” Will caught Mike’s eyes when he turned to the side, but he turned away when Max asked him a question.

“How has your first week been? Not too shitty, I hope.” Max asked.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it was.” Dustin added with a shrug.

Max turned to him and frowned. “Shut up, Dustin.”

“What?” He said defensively. “This school treats new kids like bait.” 

“Doesn’t every school?” Lucas added, he’d pulled out a text book and it was open in front of him, he was writing in it with a pencil and when he spoke he didn’t look up. 

Max sighed, turning to Mike again. “I’m sorry about them.”

“Nothing to apologise for,” He said, pulling a leg up to his chest and resting his foot on the edge of the seat. Will took note of his weird sitting positions again. “It was alright, thanks for asking.”

 

_ Why does he thank people? All the time? For... little things? _

 

“Just… alright?”

“Well, it’s school, I’m not gonna say it was fantastic. But it was tolerable.” Mike explained, and then his knee bumped against Will’s. He guessed that was his way of saying that Will helped him get through his first week of school, and he smiled to himself, feeling accomplished. 

Max nodded. “Fair enough.” 

The table then fell into general conversation about random things, Will didn’t mention the party yet. He was still unsure, but he was going to invite Mike at some point. Even if he didn’t come then it was worth asking, because he was a part of their group now. With Mike there, it felt sort of… complete. Even though the others didn’t know him that well, he seemed to just fit in, and Will felt relieved. 

They seemed to like Mike, and then Will found himself thinking:  _ who wouldn’t?  _ Who wouldn’t like someone like Mike? Will was convinced that he was impossible to dislike. Or maybe that was just him. Maybe it was the idea of meeting someone new. Maybe there was nothing more to it.

 

_ There’s nothing more to it. _

 

“What’s up, queers?” 

Troy Harrington approached their table and stopped, looking down at everyone. He hadn’t bothered them for a while, but he got bored sometimes, and decided to taunt them. It was like they had become unfazed by it now, though. There had been too many experiences in the past, and they wouldn’t tolerate them anymore. 

Will sighed. “Piss off, Troy.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and his face looked nothing but smug. “Why would I do that?” 

“Because we’re telling you to, dick.” Max said, trying to not get too angry. Will knew how much she hated Troy. They all did, but Max would show it the most. 

“Oh, I’m good thanks-”

“Just fuck off, nobody wants you here.” Will cut him off. He didn’t want to have to deal with this at that moment, especially since it was the first time Mike had sat with them. He didn’t want to drive him away after only sitting there the once. 

“Damn, Will. You seem a little cranky, you still hung up over-”

Will turned to look at him, his fists clenched. “Fuck you, Troy.” 

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He smirked, he leant forward and placed his hands on the table. 

Will scoffed. “I’d rather stab forks into my eyes, now beat it.” 

Everyone knew that Will usually had situations like these under control, he’d usually do the talking and eventually whoever was taunting them would go away. Most of the time, anyway. Will wasn’t afraid to put people in their place, and everyone was aware of that for the most part. 

“You guys ought to put him on a leash.” Troy rolled his eyes, before he leaned back and then started walking away. 

He slowed down when he was passing Mike, who was leaning back in his chair with his eyes firmly fixed on the untouched tray of food in front of him. “Wheeler.” He acknowledged Mike, but didn’t say anything else. The way he spoke was blunt, flat, and weirdly formal. He walked passed Mike, making sure to walk too close so he would shove him, and when he did, he swayed sideways a little bit. 

“Harrington.” Mike replied in the exact same way without making eye contact, and then Troy disappeared into the cafeteria; probably to make somebody else his victim. 

All eyes were on Mike now, and everything was quiet between them. It was like a weird staring match but Mike still wasn’t looking up, the others exchanged glances between themselves, not really knowing what to say. They weren’t sure if they should say anything at all. If they should just ignore that exchange and start talking about something else, but it had been quiet for too long. 

Of course, Will wondered. He wondered like he always wondered about Mike. After all, he was sure he had never wondered about someone so much in his entire life, he admitted that to himself by this point. It worried him, the fact that he and Troy, someone who had tormented Will and his friends constantly for years, knew Mike. And Mike knew him, and he’d only been at the school for a little more than a week. 

Will cleared his throat, curiosity getting the better of him. “Wait, you know Troy?”

Mike shifted in his seat, he looked mildly uncomfortable again. It was like that slight mood change Will always noticed. It didn’t take much for him to start shutting down. “Well, not really. He just ran into me the other day, picked on me for being the new kid and shit, you know? No big deal.” 

Will then found himself checking over Mike for any visible injuries, because he knew what Troy was like all too well. He felt like a concerned mother, it was like a weird instinct that overpowered him and he felt a small burning sensation of anger inside. Will was sure he would go crazy if even a single hair on Mike’s head was hurt, he was a protective person anyway; but the attachment he felt to Mike was different. He felt like he  _ had _ to protect him, even when he was probably perfectly capable of protecting himself. 

Thankfully, Will didn’t see any bruises or cuts or signs of injury, so he breathed a small sigh of relief. 

“He didn’t do anything, right? I mean-”

“I’m fine, Will. It’s fine, seriously, don’t worry.” Mike cut him off, the look in his eyes was somewhat pleading, asking him to just forget what just happened. Will wouldn’t forget though, he’d probably think the whole thing over whilst trying to sleep. As always, he thought there was more to it, and most of the time he’d tell himself he was overthinking things, but this time it seemed like there  _ was _ something more to it.

Although Mike seemed pretty happy today, Will could tell something was off. Maybe he’d had a bad weekend, maybe he just wasn’t feeling too well, maybe he’d argued with his parents, maybe he was suffering with writer’s block, maybe he was just overwhelmed by everything. That would be understandable, Will was sure he’d feel pretty exhausted after starting a new school. 

There was no use in Mike telling him not to worry, because he had worried about him since the day he first met him. 

 

-

 

Will told Max most things, and usually they’d have lengthy discussions in the library during the free periods that they shared. The hour after lunch on this particular day was one of those free periods, so the both of them sat at the table they always claimed in the corner of the school library. They sat opposite each other, various text books and papers spread over the wooden surface, fluorescent highlighters and pens randomly scattered. It was the perfect trick to make the librarian think they were studying, when in actual fact they were discussing anything but mathematical formulas and quadratic equations. 

“Got any costume ideas for that party?” Max asked, biting down on the end of a pen she was fiddling with. Will tapped the two he was holding on the edge of the table, creating some sort of rhythm like he was playing the drums. 

He shrugged. “Not really, have you?” 

“I don’t know. It seems stupid but… I want to make an effort if it’s the last one we’ll all go to together, you know?” Max explained, and Will nodded along. 

“Yeah, of course.” He smiled. “We’ll think of something, we always do.” 

Max returned the grin, and then looked behind her to see if the librarian was looking in their direction. She wasn’t, so Max turned back around. “And that is why you’re my best friend.” 

“I do try.” Will shrugged, and then laughed lightly. 

“You didn’t tell me about the studying thing, with Mike. How’s that going?” Max asked, leaning back in her chair she crossed her arms across her chest. 

Will wasn’t really sure how much he should tell Max, not that there was a problem with leaving anything out at all. Well, apart from when he accidentally started drawing Mike when he was sat right opposite him. Maybe that was something he’d choose to leave out, because that was surely not normal. 

“It’s good, I mean… It’s great. We studied a little bit, but I could tell he was getting tired out so I asked him to pick a movie to watch and he chose  _ The Breakfast Club.”  _ Will explained, Max’s eyes widening as she heard the last sentence.

“No way! That’s one of your favourites.”

Will and his friends always watched movies when they had sleepovers, and Will had made them all watch that movie more than once. Well, that and  _ Back to the Future,  _ those were his top two (only if he had to rank them, he had too many favourites).

“I know, apparently it’s one of his too.” Will shrugged. “That reminds me, you will not believe what I did.” 

Max frowned and then leaned forward, leaning her elbows on the edge of the table. “What? What did you do?” 

“I may have confessed that I used to have a crush on the guy in it.” Will told her, and she raised an eyebrow before bursting into laughter. Will couldn’t help but laugh along, and he didn’t quite understand why he was laughing. Max’s laugh was so loud that the librarian glared in their direction over her dainty glasses and shushed them. 

Max breathed out slowly, clutching her stomach. “I don’t know why I’m laughing, it’s just…  nice to see you so comfortable with it now that you’d blurt it out to someone you just met.”

“Well,” Will shrugged. “The way he reacted was kinda weird.”

“Why? What did he do?”

“Nothing.”

“What?”

“He literally did nothing. He just… acted like it was normal, you know? It made me feel so fucking great, Max.” Will smiled, thinking back. It had kept him smiling for pretty much the whole weekend, when he was trying to do his homework and he was stuck, he’d think about it; and that happiness would fuel his motivation. He truly felt like he could do anything.

He told his mother about it, and she had heard a lot of stories from Will about how coming out to particular people had gone. She’d never heard a story like that one, though. She could see just how happy it made him, she could tell just how satisfied he felt with himself. He looked proud, he looked content.

“That’s really great, Will.” Max smiled genuinely. She’d heard a bunch of these stories too, and she’d been through a lot with Will. She’d been by his side through so much. It made her happy to hear him say that something made him feel good. “I’m so  _ fucking _ glad.”

“He said that you should never assume, and I just wish that everyone could think like that. Like you look at someone, and it’s a blank slate. You don’t know anything about them until they decide to tell you themselves.” Will explained, he knew he was rambling. But he had been thinking about it a lot.

Then he thought over the last thing he said, and realised that he should probably apply that to Mike more often. He did a lot of thinking about him, a lot of  _ coulds _ and  _ maybes _ but never any definites. He’d only have definates until he was told. 

“I think that’s a pretty good way to think.” Max nodded.

Will felt himself smiling again, and he thought about Mike. Sat there on the floor in his living room, the lights from the television screen dancing across his features, his laugh when something funny would happen. Sometimes he’d even catch him mouthing the words to himself. He thought about how he was the kind of person he needed in his life for a very long time, but he didn’t know he needed him until he showed up.

“Do you think he’s…?” Max asked, and Will assumed it was the same question he’d been thinking about a lot recently. 

Will shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s not really something I should even think about, let alone ask.” 

“You’re right, but who knows? He seemed to fit in pretty well with us  _ queers.”  _ Max snickered, quoting what Troy said earlier. Will shook his head and rolled his eyes, and then let out a laugh himself. 

“Maybe, but it doesn’t matter, does it?” Will said.

“No, but sometimes it does.” 

 

-

 

Will was pretty sure the thing he hated the most about school was gym class. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy sports, just doing it in school was a nightmare, especially when you were smaller than most people. There were some things Will enjoyed more than others, like by now he had gotten his head around dodgeball, which was surprising (mostly to himself). Other things he couldn’t tolerate as much, like basketball. It really didn’t work for him. He’d much rather run around the track outside for a whole hour than be shoved by a bunch of sweaty teenage boys. 

Will could run, he’d actually go on runs sometimes. Just to clear the cloud in his head, because sometimes going for drives wasn’t enough, and he’d have to jog up to the quarry instead. He enjoyed it, and he believed it kept him from completely fizzling out. 

When he was getting changed in the locker room later that day, he noticed something. Both Dustin and Lucas were in this class, and they were discussing something Will didn’t have the effort to pay attention to. They were sat on the bench behind Will putting their shoes on as he searched through his locker, then he caught sight of Mike who was stood by another locker on the other side of the room. 

His back was turned to him, and Will made sure he didn’t stare for too long, but he still felt the need to keep an eye on him from afar. Most of the class had disappeared into the gym by this point, so it was quieter, only the occasional sound of a locker slamming shut and his friends’ petty bickering. He hadn’t seen Mike in a gym lesson before, so he wondered why he was starting now. 

Will had been called out plenty of times for ‘staring’ at the other boys in the locker room, when he actually never did. Well, rarely. People only said it because of what Troy had put into their heads, they were right, but not because Will had told them himself. Maybe he would one day. Even if they did know, it wasn’t like he’d really care.

He couldn’t  _ not _ look at Mike, though. There was something that made Will frown when he slid his flannel off and quickly pulled his shirt over his head, planning to exchange it as quickly as possible. Firstly, he noticed how pale his back was, he knew he was pale anyway, but his skin was strikingly white like paper. Then he noticed how thin he was, he could practically see his spine, and Will felt sick to the stomach with worry. 

He felt even worse when he noticed the bruises. 

There were only a few of them, but Will still noticed. They weren’t too obvious, some looked like they were fading, and others looked new. They quickly disappeared under fabric when Mike threw his other shirt on and pulled it down awkwardly, and Will sighed to himself. He kept telling himself that there was nothing more to the things he was thinking about, but now he was starting to think that there was. 

Unfortunately, they were playing basketball today. Will was going to try his best to just stand on the sidelines and do nothing, he was usually pretty good at that. Maybe he’d try and catch Mike to talk to him, not about what he saw, just because he was his friend. Just because he wanted to remind Mike that he was still there without having to say it directly. 

They played for about fifteen minutes, Dustin and Lucas were sitting out with a few other boys because they didn’t have to play yet, and Will was just running along, not really getting involved. He didn’t have the effort to, but he saw Mike actually trying, and to be fair to him, he wasn’t that bad. He had the right height for it, maybe his limbs were a bit too gangly, but he was pretty good. He did more than Will did. 

A few minutes later, Mike left the gym. It wasn’t like they had a break at all, he just turned on his heel and walked out the door. The whole class seemed to turn around and look at him, and the room fell silent when the door slammed closed on its own. Will didn’t see if he looked panicked or stressed - he didn’t catch his facial expression - before he turned around and left. 

Will announced that he was going to go after him, and the coach sent him a nod of approval before he started walking in the direction that Mike had walked out in. He heard the whistle blow and the game continue when his back had turned, and Dustin and Lucas looked at him with confused expressions from the bleachers. He just shrugged, and then began walking a bit faster, worry unfolding in his stomach yet again.

He found him in the empty hall space outside the gym, sat on the floor leaning against the wall, his exposed knees were pulled up to his chest and his head was bent down; it was like he was trying to hide. Like he was trying to make himself small and nonexistent again, unreachable physically as well as mentally. He did look small at that moment, smaller than he’d ever looked before. 

Will let the gym door close behind him, and he smiled sadly at Mike; who wasn’t even looking at him anyway. He just felt like he needed to. He didn’t say anything, instead he just walked towards him slowly, and then sat down next to him, not too close but not too far away. 

There was something weirdly comforting in the air and the space between them, where Will felt like he didn’t have to say anything until Mike felt like he wanted to. Enveloped in the quiet, Will looked at his scruffy nikes as his legs were stretched out in front of him. He looked at the paint peeling off the walls, unreadable words scratched into it. He looked at the rusting lockers opposite them. He looked at how worn down everything was, and he wondered if a person could feel that way too. He wondered if Mike felt that way. 

“You didn’t have to follow me out.” Mike mumbled, still not looking up. Obviously he knew it was Will for some reason, but Will didn’t bother to ask how. 

“I know.” Will replied.

Mike looked up making eye contact with Will, some of his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and now it stuck out in all directions. His eyes looked slightly reddened, and his voice was scratchy when he spoke again. 

“Then why did you?”

Will thought over the question for a few moments, not quite sure how to answer. “Because you’re my friend, and I was worried.” 

Mike breathed out slightly and then shook his head, looking away from Will and then looking at the lockers in front of them instead. “I can’t see why anyone should worry about me.” 

Will frowned, and he felt some sort of ache in his chest. “Why not?”

“Because I’m not used to people caring.” Mike shrugged, and then sniffled a little bit. Will could only guess he had cried a little bit, but he chose not to bring it up, because he looked like he was trying his absolute best to hide it. 

“I care.” Will told him, and Mike looked down to his knees again briefly. He looked like he had a small smile on his lips, but Will couldn’t tell. 

“I know you do,” He looked at Will again. “I haven’t had someone care about me in a while, so I’m sorry for taking it weirdly.” 

“You don’t take it weirdly, you just appreciate it more than most people I know.” Will explained. It was true, Mike noticed when you were interested in something he had to say, he noticed when you asked him about thinks he liked, he noticed when you picked up on something specific he had said. 

Mike let his legs stretch out in front of him, and he sighed before rubbing his hands over his face. “I’m sorry about this, Will. You must think I’m so pathetic.”

“You’re not, not at all.” Will told him. “And stop saying sorry, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Sorry.” Mike blurted out again, and then Will glared at him. Mike let out a laugh, and soon enough Will laughed along.

“Dammit, Michael. Why are you like this?” Will asked through his laughter.

“That’s a question I ask myself every day, William.” 

The area fell into that comfortable silence again, neither boy caring about the gym class they were missing. It felt like the first time, in a way, the first time that they met. Perhaps it was a repeat but it was in a different location, except this time they knew each other a little better. They were familiar with each other’s stupid habits, the kind of things they laughed at… it was little things like that, that brought them together. 

“Any reason why you walked out? Or were you just not feeling gym today?” Will asked, after thinking it over more than he needed to. 

Mike cleared his throat and then sighed. “I don’t think a person like me ever feels up for gym.” He said, and then Will nodded, understanding. “I just didn’t feel good. I don’t know… it’s hard to explain. I just got worked up and needed to leave.” 

“Does that happen often?”

“Sort of,” Mike shrugged. “Sometimes there’s only so much I can cope with and I’ll end up lashing out if I don’t get away.” 

“Lashing out?” Will asked, wanting to know more, but he didn’t want to pry.

“There’s a lot of stuff you don’t know about me, Will. There’s a lot of stuff I don’t want you to know… things I’m ashamed of. I wanted to take this move as a new start, but everything here seems to remind me of the past.” Mike explained, and Will felt like his brain was flooding with new information, new questions he’d never ask. “I guess you’re the only positive thing that’s come out of this.” 

Clearly, Mike did move states for reasons other than his dad’s job. That was obvious, but as Mike had just said, he didn’t want Will to know. Will would respect that, but he didn’t really have time to process anything since his brain was working at a hundred miles an hour. He found himself smiling at what Mike had just said, glad he had a positive effect on him. 

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Mike nodded. “Sorry, I get sappy sometimes. That’s the writer in me talking.”

“I told you to stop saying sorry.” Will said sternly, but then he couldn’t help but break out into a smile. “Also, there’s nothing wrong with being sappy. I’m soft, you’re sappy, a perfect duo if you ask me.” 

Will didn’t know that this was exactly what Mike needed. He just needed someone to sit with him and act like everything was normal, sort of like how he reacted to Will accidentally coming out. Of course, acting like everything was normal wasn’t always the best thing to do, because sometimes things could get bad, and it would be no use pretending that everything was fine. Mike would do it for as long as possible, though. 

“Okay, I promise I won’t say it again.” Mike said defensively. 

“Good.” Will said, and then thought about asking Mike about the party. He decided there would be no harm in asking him. “Hey, there’s this halloween party that everyone’s going to. You can come with us if you want, we’re having a sleepover at my place afterwards. It’s like a tradition we have, it’s sorta stupid but… you’re invited.”

Mike looked at him thoughtfully for a few moments, taking in the information. “Well, I’ll think about it and let you know. Parties aren’t usually my thing.”

“That’s okay. It’s fancy dress, and everyone either looks great or stupid, most people are okay with either.” Will nodded, and then suddenly a thought popped into his brain. “Oh my god, you should totally go as Bender!” 

Mike let out a different kind of laugh, not one that Will had heard before. They were usually quiet, like he was trying to hide the fact that he found something funny. This time, it was louder and more genuine, and he quickly covered his mouth to try and stop himself. Will found himself smiling again, it was probably one of those stupid big smiles that he couldn’t stop from spreading. 

Mike had been making him do that a lot recently. 

“Really, Will?” Mike said through the laughter. “You should dress up as Claire and we could go as a couple.”

Will almost choked on air again, but all he could do was laugh quietly. He was surely taken by surprise when he said that, because it was pretty confident for Mike, even if it was a joke. He wasn’t sure what to reply, so he didn’t say anything, he just looked at Mike with the dumb smile and let the tingling feeling in his stomach eat him alive.

 

_ Stop. _

 

_ This isn’t supposed to happen. _

 

He looked at his eyes, the dark circles under them, his eyelashes that were slightly wet and clumped together, his freckles, his faltering smile. He looked at him, and at this point he realised that he’d gained his trust. He realised that, at the moment, perhaps he brought out the best in him.

Somehow.

“Mike?” Will asked, breaking the silence that turned into something more confusing than it was before. 

The dark haired and notably pale boy turned to look at his hands, playing with his own fingers. “Yeah?” 

Will’s mind flicked back to the bruises he saw… some purple, some blue, some yellowing. “If Troy was hurting you, you’d tell me, right?” 

“He’s not hurting me, Will.” Mike said after clearing his throat. “I told you that before.”

“Well, I mean… if he was?” 

Mike then turned his head to catch Will’s eyes. “If I’m being completely honest with you, I probably wouldn’t.” 

Then, Will started to worry again. He was a natural worrier anyway, so when someone like Mike appears one day, someone like Will was bound to worry about him. He just seemed so fragile, but Will didn’t want to pity him. He didn’t want to try and help him if there was nothing to help, maybe just being there was the best thing he could do. He wondered what Mike could’ve been ashamed of, or maybe someone else made him feel like he ought to feel ashamed. Perhaps it was something he shouldn’t be ashamed of, but  _ someone else _ made him feel that way.

Worrying about something wasn’t a nice feeling, instead of a fire in your chest it was just like some sort of dull ache. A sick feeling deep set in your stomach that screamed all sorts of things that you could do absolutely nothing about. Worrying about someone you cared for was a hundred times worse. 

At this point he’d admit that he cared about Mike, he hadn’t known him long, but he did care about him. Will could already tell that he was important to him too, from the things he had said, the things he remembered. It was like he had a little store in his mind that was labelled:  _ Nice things Mike Wheeler has said to me.  _

He wondered if Mike remembered any of the nice things he’d said to him.

“Come on,” Will started, standing up and dusting his hands off on his gym shorts. “Let’s get out of here, I have a few spots around town that I wanna show you.” 

“First my tutor, now my tour guide? Wow, William Byers, you sure are giving me the star treatment.” Mike smiled, and then Will held his hand out so he could help Mike up.

“Of course, Michael Wheeler.” Will attempted to do a posh accent, but it went horribly wrong and he ended up laughing halfway through. “Hawkins awaits.” 

Mike grabbed onto Will’s hand and pulled himself up, the touch making the two of them go slightly pink. It was like a static shock that made them feel… different. That was something that would go unspoken for a long while, though. 

When he saw the bruises on Mike’s outstretched wrist, like someone had grabbed him there, he didn’t say anything.

He didn’t say anything when maybe he should’ve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my update schedule is messy but i'm trying my best uHhh thanks for all the nice comments so far!! they're greatly appreciated, and let me know what you thought of this chapter :))
> 
> ALSO!! here's the link to the spotify playlist for this fic that i made if you're interested: https://open.spotify.com/user/erinclark1987/playlist/1mofC8KRVwjWSOxXeo6nZK


	5. after hours

Will had taken Mike to one of his ‘thinking’ spots, as a starting point for his little impromptu tour around Hawkins. He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing, but he thought it would be best if he were to just go with it. Mike, quite clearly, needed to take his mind off things; so Will wanted to help. Despite not really knowing how, or even what the things he needed to take his mind off were. 

It was like something you couldn’t quite get your head around, or an essay you couldn’t get right no matter how hard you tried. Something you’d never see clearly, like forgetting your glasses when you needed them. There was something blurry about Mike, like he was stood at the top of a mountain above thick clouds, and Will was stood at the bottom, knowing he was there, but not truly seeing him. Will wondered if he’d ever be able to climb that mountain. He wondered if he’d ever be able to see Mike clearly, if he’d ever be able to see him for who he was. After all, only the clearest skies allowed you to see the stars, and even if Will couldn’t see them… he knew they were there. 

They’d left school early, since their gym class was at the end of the day. They went to get changed first, passing through the empty hallways in that same comfortable silence to make their way back to the locker room. Will couldn’t help but let his eyes linger on the marks on Mike’s back as he stood across the room, ensuring he didn’t stare for too long, because Will knew when someone looked at you for a certain amount of time, you’d feel their gaze on the back of your head; almost like they were looking right through you. He’d had far too many experiences with that in the past.

Will had gotten bruises before - like every other person - but they were nothing compared to what he saw that day. Some of them looked almost permanent, like they had been there a long time, and other’s looked mere days old. They were grouped in different places, some dotted along his shoulder blades, and others near his waist like he was grabbed there. Will felt rage starting to brew in his stomach, and he almost felt sick again, so he looked away. 

He wanted to know who was hurting him. Why would they hurt him? How often would they hurt him? As Will mentally scanned over a list of possible people like a jukebox skimming through records, his mind stopped on his parents. It was possible, of course, Will remembered being told by Mike himself that he didn’t have the best relationship with them. Something like that seemed far too obvious though, or maybe it was just the hard truth. Will didn’t know, and at that point he wasn’t sure he ever would. 

So there they were, stood at the rocky shore that belonged to Hawkins’ very own quarry. At times it felt like a secluded beach, but with less sand and sunshine. Even though it didn’t seem like the most comfortable place to spend time, and the rumours of people drunkenly jumping off the upper side were surely terrifying, Will still managed to find comfort there. Perhaps it was because it was somewhere he went a lot as a child, and the habit just stuck. 

Will had parked his car in the most convenient spot, and he and Mike climbed out after they waited for the song to come to an end. They had listened to another one of Will’s tapes, and they realised that they both had the same habit of not being able to leave a song half finished. After letting a song by  _ the cure _ come to a close, they walked a few metres down towards the water; jagged rocks crunching under tattered shoes.

“So this is where all the cool kids hang out, right?” 

Will stifled a laugh at the remark, glancing at Mike who was stood tall; only an arm’s length away. He had a coat on over his plaid shirt now, which was long and dark, his hands were shoved into the pockets. He balanced on one leg more than the other as he looked at Will with some sense of genuine curiosity, but a smirk lingered there. Will didn’t know why it made his stomach feel strange. 

“You could say that,” Will shrugged, knowing perfectly well that he was the only one who really enjoyed spending time there. The others did too, but only sometimes. “I mean, that’s if you consider me a  _ cool _ kid.”

Will noticed Mike sniffle and blink a few times, like the cold air was getting to him. His nose was turning slightly pink, as were his cheeks; like a sweet blush. His pitch black hair blew around in the somewhat calm wind and he rocked back on his heels as if he was trying to keep himself moving to maintain his body heat.

Will couldn’t deny that he looked fucking adorable.

“You’re the coolest kid I know, William Byers.” 

At the time, Will would do all in his power to deny the fact that he felt weak at the knees when Mike dropped that comment. He really  _ didn’t  _ like how he always used his full name, and how it sounded so pleasant coming from his pink lips. He more than hated it; he completely despised it. 

He didn’t like how his voice as smooth as emptying a jar of honey into a porcelain bowl. He hated how it cracked sometimes, like his throat was raw from shouting. How could a voice be so soothing yet so scratchy? Will had never heard him shout, so he wondered why he sometimes sounded like he’d had several screaming matches the night before, or perhaps like he religiously went to gigs and enjoyed screaming over the collective noise of bass guitars and drums. 

He also hated how he still looked  _ good.  _ He still looked good standing out in the wind, tangled hair, pink cheeks, nose on the verge of running. He still looked good after absolutely throwing himself into a basketball game only less than an hour before. He still looked good when he was tired, which was pretty much all the time, and Will hated it. He hated it so fucking much. 

He hated his stupid pretty face. 

“No need to lie, Mike.” Will replied, attempting to mimic the tone he’d just been spoken to in. 

Mike stared down at the rocky surface under his feet and swung one of his legs, a few stones getting caught under his shoe and skittering forward. “Will, you’re one of the only decent people I know right now. So automatically, you  _ are  _ the coolest.” 

 

_ He keeps saying that.  _

 

_ He keeps saying I’m the only decent person he knows. _

 

Will suddenly felt a small amount of pressure on himself, even to the point where he could feel it on his chest. If he was the only  _ decent  _ person in Mike’s life, then how much did everyone else…  _ completely _ suck? Will truly felt like he hadn’t done anything to reach that kind of importance in Mike’s eyes, but obviously he needed someone. Will was there, he was nice enough, and that was probably all there was too it. He just needed a friend. It wasn’t like it was anything special. And as Will kept reminding himself, they hadn’t even known each other that long. 

Even though Will kept trying to tell himself that Mike just wanted someone to talk to, and he wasn’t as important to Mike as he claimed, he realised how much he  _ didn’t _ actually enjoy talking to other people. During that first week, he always sat alone, keeping to himself. He didn’t speak much to Will’s friends when he met them, and he didn’t speak a single word to Joyce. When he didn’t want to talk he’d shut off, even from Will. Like a battery running low, needing to be recharged. But the thing was, Will had only seen Mike when he was with him, of course; so he had no idea what he was like without him. And when Mike was with Will, he seemed moderately happy. Not the happiest, but still, happy. Happy enough. 

But it was only a matter of time before he would see him break.

“How flattering, Michael.” Will shoved his hands into his pockets too, subconsciously mirroring the tall boy next to him. “You really do have a way with words.” 

“So I’ve been told.” Mike shrugged, and then cleared his throat, like he was trying to stop the honey tone from becoming raspy due to the cold, summer was definitely over by then. Will thought about how the two of them would sometimes slip into a certain way of talking, like they were from some posh upper class area in 1800s England. It wasn’t even weird for them, it was almost second nature. Perhaps it was the full names that influenced it in the first place. 

Will brushed some stones away with the toe of his shoe, mindlessly trying to find the dirt underneath. His mind came to a stop at Mike’s black book that he carried with him everywhere, and he thought about asking. He let it slip without even giving it much thought. “How’s the book coming along?” 

“Great, actually.” Mike nodded, he fumbled around in his coat pocket when Will mentioned it, pulling out the very book from the depths of the material. That coat was big, even for a tall person like Mike, but he was still incredibly slim, despite the alarming height. So much so that it was on the verge of worrying. 

He looked at the front of the book, and then flipped it over in his hands to look at the back. He didn’t dare open it. His slender fingers traced the spine, it was pretty big - like a large diary or a journal - so it was enough space to jot down all of his messy thoughts as soon as they graced his mind. 

“Is it not easier to type?” Will had asked, tearing his eyes away from the circle of dirt he was uncovering. 

Mike shrugged again. A habit Will noticed. “It’s not in order yet. All bits and pieces, you know? When I’m all set, I’ll write it for real.” 

“So are they just… ideas?” 

“Some, yeah. Then I write out a few sections, because they just come into my mind and I don’t want to forget.” Mike explained, pocketing the book, and Will could tell he was passionate about the subject. He was glad he was into something creative, because he could understand him better. He was also jealous, to an extent, that Mike seemed to have a lot figured out from a creative aspect. Will was still struggling with his art, maybe less so than a few weeks beforehand, but he was still struggling to bring the pencil down to the paper. 

“I wish I could write.” Will thought out loud. 

“And I wish I could draw,” Mike replied, almost instantly. “We should teach each other one day.” 

Will let himself laugh lightly this time. “I think I’d suck even if  _ Charles Dickens _ taught me.” 

“Well, there’s no harm in trying.” Mike said, as a matter-of-factly. 

“Yeah,” Will nodded, and then he thought of Mike trying to teach him. Maybe he’d be leaning close, peering down at the words he had written, perhaps he’d be so close that Will would be able to hear his thoughts.  _ Maybe if you changed this bit it would sound more… wait let me just… ah, perfect. _ “You’re right.” 

“I usually am, Byers.” Mike smirked. Will tried not to scream. “Do you think you could teach me how to draw, then?” 

“I suppose I could try.” He shrugged, and that was when he blanked out.

His mind was then flooded of images of he and Mike sat on the grass on a summer evening, maybe under a tree to savour some shade. Will would be lying on his stomach, feet in the air and ankles crossed, a sketchbook open in front of him; drawing something he couldn’t quite make out. Absentmindedly humming a catchy tune that had latched itself onto his brain from the radio. He’d glance up at the mystery boy sat next to him, propped up on one arm, dark eyes peering downwards to become encapsulated by Will’s pencil movements. He’d catch his eye, they’d smile at each other, that same smile they always shared before they-

“Will?” 

 

_ Snap out of it. _

 

“Mmm?” Will quickly made eye contact with the very boy he’d been daydreaming about, leaving the things he pictured behind him; trying his best to manually delete them from his mind. It wasn’t a simple task, like picking up a piece of rubbish and disposing of it. But getting rid of this was harder, like he needed a forklift truck to help him, and he didn’t like that at all. 

“What are you thinking about?” Mike asked, and Will didn’t realise he had moved only a few steps closer, during his little daydream. 

Of course, he had to ask that question. Of course he had to ask something that Will wouldn’t dare answer. “Just about all the time I’ve spent here, you know? With friends, blasting music, swimming, skipping rocks…” 

Luckily, it convinced him.

“Skipping rocks?” Mike asked, as if he was trying to hold in laughter. Will looked at him like he was offended. 

“What?” He said defensively. “Have you never done it before?” 

“Nope, seems lame if I’m honest.” 

“You hurt my feelings too much to be considered a friend, Wheeler.” Will shook his head and playfully rolled his eyes. He took off his jacket, dropping it carelessly on the ground, and rolled up the sleeves of his long shirt up to the elbows. 

Mike watched him carefully and patiently, and Will was all too aware of his gaze. “You truly wound me, Byers.” 

“You’ll get over it.” Will shrugged, and then leaned towards the ground and scooped up a handful of stones, shaking them around he disposed of the ones that weren’t the right shape or size. “You’ve gotta get the right ones, the flatter the better, and make sure they aren’t too big.” 

He then swapped some of them into his left hand, keeping a single one in his right. He stepped a little closer to the water, and Mike stayed where he was, watching his every move. He seemed to become captivated by little things, Will had noticed. Most of the time it appeared that Mike didn’t care for other people, but Will got some sort of impression that he was actually a curious person, too. 

He stood only a foot away from where the water began, and let out a sigh. Although he was cold without his jacket, there was something really refreshing about the air. It felt cleaner and quieter, hence why it was such a good place to be left alone with your thoughts. The water only moved slightly due to the wind, most of the time it was completely still, but that day it seemed more alive. Will felt small as he gazed up at the towering rocks surrounding him, and he wondered what it would feel like on the fall if you jumped. He imagined it would be thrilling and refreshing, and he would do it if there weren’t such an unpleasant end. 

For Will, it was difficult to fathom that other people wouldn’t care for the fall, and they only wanted what was at the bottom. Plunged into darkness forever, enveloped in nothingness, slipping out of existence into some other world where everything hurt less. 

He turned to look at Mike who was a few steps behind him, his arms were crossed over his chest like he was trying to hug himself. His eyes were fixed on the towering walls of the quarry, like he was scared of them closing in on him and swallowing him whole. Or maybe he wanted them to. He caught Will’s eyes when he realised he was looking at him, and he smiled for reassurance, nodding as if to say  _ go ahead. _

Will returned the smile, hoping he could make this world more tolerable for Mike, even just a little bit. At this point he felt like he had to. He looked back at the water, and stood side on, weighing up the stone in his hand. He drew his arm back, and then threw it with the correct amount of force, it bounced on the top of the water  _ one, two, three, four…  _ five times before submerging itself in the water a few metres back. Will smirked, satisfied with his throw, and turned back to Mike who was looking curiously in his direction. 

“Not bad.” Mike shrugged.

“Not so lame, huh?” Will teased, and Mike pretended to look like he was deep in thought for a few seconds. 

“Well…” He said, dragging the word out. “Usually I use throwing things as a way of relieving my anger, but that works too.” 

“You wanna try it?” Will asked, holding out another decent stone he had found for Mike to take. Mike looked at him for a few moments and then sighed, he stepped forward and took the stone from Will, their skin touching ever so slightly.

He took off his coat too, and went to roll up his sleeves, but then he decided against it. Will was pretty certain he knew why. He tried to throw the stone like Will had done, mirroring his posture, how far he stood from the water, how fast he threw it… He managed to get the stone to bounce about twice, and Will was about to say something about it being decent, but obviously Mike wasn’t happy with what he’d done.

He picked up another stone from the ground, not even checking if it was the right size or shape, and he hurled it towards the water. He did this multiple times, and Will wondered if he was just trying to let off some steam at this point. Seeing how far he could throw them and how hard, rather than trying to make them skip. He was breathing heavily and quickly, and Will was worried he might pass out if he kept going. It was much like the basketball game, watching him get too into it, working himself to death; wearing his body out on purpose.

Will decided that he should try and help, because although Mike seemed to want to let off his  _ anger,  _ Will wasn’t sure it was all too good for him to do it like this. 

“Here, let me show you.” Will sighed, walking over to Mike who was stood only a few feet away. He knew how to throw stones so they hopped across the surface of the water three or four times. He remembered doing it every summer, having stupid competitions with his friends. Will always won, and everyone hated him for it. He made his way towards Mike, the rocks under his feet crunched with every step, as he mindlessly dragged himself forward; not really thinking about what he was doing. Maybe he just wanted an excuse to get close. 

Mike threw another stone towards the water, with as much force as he could give, like he was letting out all of the anger inside of him. It skidded across a few rocks and then landed in the lake, the water rippling away like tiny waves as it made contact. He threw another, like he was throwing a tennis ball for a dog, as hard as he could, and it landed with a loud  _ splash.  _ He was getting more and more frustrated with each grey stone he threw, like every single one represented something he didn’t like about himself. He wanted them all gone, submerged under no less than eight feet of icy water, never to be seen again. 

Unfortunately, his problems always seemed to float back towards the surface. 

He was just about to throw another, his arm was drawn back and he clutched the stone so hard his knuckles turned white. So much so, that it would cause him to bleed if it had jagged edges. Fortunately, before he could throw it, Will was at his side, partially stood behind his back. 

“Hey, calm down.” He told him, grabbing onto his wrist before it would surge forward. The touch was like a reminder, it told Mike that somehow everything would turn out alright. Somehow things would get better. The touch meant more than Will thought it did. Mike closed his eyes and then breathed out, somewhat shakily, and he became suddenly aware of Will’s close proximity. 

“I’m sorry.” Mike sounded like he was about to cry, but he wouldn’t let himself do that. He wasn’t going to do this again, he’d done it too many times that week. Will felt his wrist relax in his grip, but he didn’t let go. 

“Didn’t I tell you to stop apologising?” Will’s voice was calming, and at the sound of it being so close Mike breathed out a shaky breath and let his eyes close. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I have a lot to be sorry for, Will.” Mike said, and turned slightly so he could look at Will despite wanting to avoid it. 

Will looked up at him since they were so close. “Not things you have to apologise to me for, anyway.” 

“You don’t know that-”

“What on earth would you have to aplogise to  _ me _ for?” 

“Everything.” 

Will couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “What are you talking about?” 

“I’m sorry that you have to put up with me.” 

Will scrunched his eyebrows together, confused. “I don’t feel like I have to  _ put up _ with you, Mike. I’m not friends with you out of sympathy.”

“Are you sure? Because-”

“I’m  _ very _ sure. In fact, I doubt I’ve been  _ this _ certain about anything in my life.” 

That seemed to get through to Mike, since he appeared to relax more. His shoulders looked less tense, slumping down, and he dropped the stone he was holding, itching to grab onto something else much closer. He wanted to connect and to never come apart, he wished Will could understand, he wished he could tell him everything. But he didn’t want to lose him, and he was convinced he would. 

“I’m not used to this.” Mike admitted, and he looked down at his wrist that Will seemed to of forgotten he was holding. He then noticed, and reluctantly let go whilst mumbling a messy apology under his breath. Mike didn’t want him to apologise either, he didn’t want him to let go. He felt like he’d lost him already. 

“Not used to what?”

“I always point out that you care, and I’m not used to it.” Mike told him, and he remembered them having a conversation like this earlier. He wanted to know why.

Will shuffled on his feet, crossing his arms to try and get rid of the feeling of Mike’s wrist in his grip, even though he’d already let go. It lingered there like an afterthought. “Well I’m glad you know I do care.” He told him. “I just wanna know why you aren’t used to it.” 

“I don’t know,” Mike shrugged, sniffling again, cooling down. “I guess I just push it away because I don’t think I deserve it.” 

“Well, you do. And I’m gonna make you believe it.” 

“Good luck with that.” Mike smiled slightly, but then looked down as if he was trying to prevent himself from laughing. 

“What? I can do it!” Will’s voice became defensive. 

Mike looked at Will again, but only for a moment. “Yeah, well, we’ll see.” 

_ “You’ll _ see,” Will retorted. “Do you trust me?” 

Mike then looked like he was thinking, he found it very difficult to trust people in the first place; being let down was a feeling that was far too familiar. But Will… Will was an outstretched hand, he was a shoulder to lean on, the calm after a storm, the light in the dark. He seemed almost too good to be true, Mike wanted to reach forward to see if his arm would go through him like a hologram, a trick of the mind or a hallucination like seeing water in the desert. Maybe he tricked himself into seeing someone he needed.

But he wasn’t dreaming, Will was really there, and the look in his eyes said he could trust him.

“Yeah,” Mike said. “I do now.” 

“Good.” Will smiled, and that was when he made it his mission to make Mike Wheeler feel important, like he deserved to have people caring about him. Even if it was going to take him a whole year, he was going to do it.

Will tore his gaze away from him, and then crouched down to the ground, sitting cross legged on the rocks even though it hurt. He would’ve brought a blanket if they had planned this, maybe some food. He made a mental note to do it in the future. He felt Mike looking at him, and it was like something he had a sixth sense for, especially when Mike would do it.

He cleared his throat. “What are you doing?”

“Sitting down, dumbass. You should try it.” Will shrugged, picking up yet another stone from the ground. He threw it forward, not caring for any skillful tactics, it flew through the air and then submerged in the water. “That is kinda stress relieving though, I’ll give you that.” 

“Told you,” Mike said smugly, a coy smile on his face. He sat down next to Will, stones crunching under his shoes. “And don’t call me a dumbass, dumbass.” 

Will snickered, and then thought about how Mike seemed to change like the weather. One minute he was all dark clouds and strong winds, and the next he was sunshine. It was a shame that he seemed to be the first more often, though. Will wanted to know about everything  _ so _ badly, because he knew there was something in particular in Mike’s mind when he said things like:

 

_ There’s a lot of stuff you don’t know about me, Will,  _ and  _ I have a lot to be sorry for. _

 

He couldn’t imagine Mike doing anything wrong, even if he tried. Maybe he just didn’t know him well enough to judge. He hated all this mystery, all this uncertainty. Maybe Mike would be honest with him one day, or maybe he’d never tell. It wasn’t like Will had any right to know anyway, so he should’ve stopped thinking as if he was magically going to get a list of answers. 

Will thought the smoke would start to clear up the longer he knew Mike, but it only seemed to become thicker and darker. 

He hated how he was beginning to notice more of the little things, too. Things he didn’t usually pay attention to with anyone else. He noticed his nervous habits, like playing with his fingers or messing with his hair too much when he was nervous - which seemed to be all the time. He also noticed what kind of smiles he’d do and when, and how many times he’d blink when he was confused. The feeling in his chest was familiar for a reason he didn’t like, but it was also nothing like he’d ever felt before.

“What’s so special about this place?” Mike had asked, pulling Will out of the depths of his own mind. 

Will shrugged. “It’s good for thinking,” He stretched his legs out in front of him. “You just listen to the water, and think.” 

“What if someone doesn’t like being alone with their thoughts?” 

Will looked at Mike, who was already looking at him, curiosity glazed over his brown eyes. One leg was bent so he had his forearm resting on his knee. Will leaned backwards and used his hands to prop himself up.

“Then you say them out loud.” 

 

-

 

Mike didn’t take Will’s advice straight away, instead he just nodded and looked like he had stored it somewhere in his brain for future reference. Will hoped he would at least think about it, because he looked like he needed to talk about some things out loud, even if he didn’t want to at first, Will knew he would end up feeling better for it. 

After the quarry, Will took Mike to some other places that he thought Mike might like to see. He drove around mostly, through the rundown streets and around the outskirts of the town, and even up to the sign that read _ LEAVING HAWKINS - COME AGAIN SOON,  _ before turning back around. Will wished he could drive straight past it and never come back, with Mike in the passenger seat with his feet on the dashboard looking like a daydream. 

Mike’s small… Will wasn’t sure what to call it.  _ Outburst? Breakdown? _ He didn’t know, but it wasn’t forgotten. Neither of them mentioned it, but Will still thought about it, and Mike knew he was still thinking about it. Will wanted to know why he got so angry, and if it happened a lot. He remembered hearing that he supposedly had problems with anger from their social studies teacher, but he didn’t actually expect it to be true. 

It wasn’t that bad though, everyone got angry, and maybe Mike was just more prone to the emotion than the average person. Will wouldn’t question it, he didn’t think it was too big of an issue. It wasn’t like he was punching walls, throwing plates and tearing down wallpaper. Only a few stones in the water, nothing to worry about.

 

_ Then why am I still worried? _

 

“I don’t wanna go home yet.” Mike thought out loud, he had a collection of tapes in his lap again, holding the bottle of vanilla milkshake that Will had stopped to buy him when he asked if he wanted a drink, Will had one stashed in one of the cup holders between them.  _ Milkshake is a gift, _ Mike had said.  _ I don’t understand why you’d choose water over this. Alcohol? Maybe… but still.  _

Will took his eyes off the road to look at Mike quickly as they passed the cinema for the second time. “I have work in a few, but you can come with me.” 

“What?” Mike took a sip of his drink. He’d gotten a milk moustache several times but Will didn’t have the heart to tell him. “You can’t do that.” 

“Technically, you’re right. But my boss isn’t there tonight, and nobody will say anything.” Will shrugged. When he worked in the  _ Family Video _ store, he usually only had one other colleague there. His name was Tom and he was in his mid thirties, he didn’t really care for anything, other than making sure Will covered for him when he skipped work sometimes, in both ways. Perhaps it was time to get something in return. 

Mike looked thoughtful. “Are you sure? Will I not distract you from your… video stacking?”

Will snorted and shook his head. “I usually just sit there, and help people find things if they need. No big deal.” He shrugged. “We can probably do some studying, too. We have that social studies test tomorrow, remember?”

“Oh, shit.” Mike threw his head back so it hit the seat, then he looked at Will with pleading eyes. “You’ve got some serious cramming to do, Byers. I’m already fucked as it is.”

“Hey! You said you trusted me, right?” Will asked, and Mike nodded. “So trust me, we can do this.” 

Mike sighed. “I wish I wasn’t so shit at school. It’s all pointless anyway, for me.”

“Why? And you’re not shit, Mike. You’re fucking smart.”

Mike shrugged it off and didn’t answer the question, and Will was sure there was something more to it. There always was. “Stop, you’ll make me blush you dipshit.” 

Will smirked. “I make you blush, do I? Interesting…” He teased.

 

_ This is a joke. It’s just a joke. Friendly banter.  _

 

_ Yeah, that’s totally what this is. _

 

“In my defence I’m not very good at taking compliments.” Mike said, letting his feet slide down from the dashboard. Will thought it was probably because he didn’t get them that often. 

Will turned down the street that would eventually lead to his work. “Looks like you’re in for a treat then, Wheeler. I  _ love _ giving compliments.” 

“Shut up.” Was all Mike could reply, after thinking of something to say for about twenty seconds. 

“You wish.”

They arrived at the store not long after that, wishing they could just go and hang out at the arcade instead since it was right nextdoor. Will didn’t work a lot, just a few times after school and usually one day of the weekend. The best thing about it was the fact that it helped him expand his evergrowing movie collection, and he got the discounts. 

It looked like your typical  _ Blockbuster,  _ but a local off brand version with more secondhand goods. A colourful and strangely patterned carpet covered the floor, and shelves lined the walls and stood up in the centre of the room to display every genre of movie imaginable, and Will knew exactly where everything was placed. He walked through the glass doors at the front having parked his car outside, Mike following behind him; looking around like he was fascinated by everything in sight.

Will slung his backpack onto the counter, and lifted up the section on hinges at the end of it so he could walk through. “I gotta change, be back in a sec.” He said, and then disappeared into a different room in the back. Mike nodded even though he had already gone, a dark figure stood amongst a sea of colours. 

He walked up and down the aisles slowly, fingers tracing the edges of movies he recognised. Some he picked up to look at the back, looking at the leading cast members and reading the synopsis. He was becoming warm in the heated room, and he desperately wanted to take off his black coat that he was drowning in. He left it though, and smiled to himself after spotting a copy of  _ The Breakfast Club.  _

He picked it up, weighing it up in his hands. He looked at the cover, and then looked at the character that Will confessed he used to have a crush on. Which was the same character he told Mike to dress up as for the halloween party (which he was still unsure about going to).  _ Yeah, _ Mike then thought.  _ I could totally pull that off.  _

“You’re late, so now  _ I’m _ gonna be late. I’m going to dinner with this really  _ hot _ girl and now I’m gonna look like a fucking idiot because I haven’t showered. Seriously though, you should see her. She’s so- hey! Are you even listening?”

Mike looked up from his fixed gaze on the video case, seeing Will stood behind the counter, now in a pale green polo shirt with the store’s logo on the front. A middle aged man was talking to him, with his coat and khaki pants on, a bag slung over his shoulder like he was in a rush to leave. Will bent down to find something under the counter whilst the man ranted at him, and Mike watched and tried not to laugh. 

“What did I tell you, Tom? I can’t relate to your girl crushes.” Will sighed, standing up again and placing a bunch of video cases on the wooden counter. Mike let out a laugh to himself, as he put the video back on the shelf. 

Tom began to walk away from the counter. “Oh shit, yeah. Sorry man.” He slapped the counter twice with his clammy hand, and then rattled his car keys in his other. “Anyways, gotta go.” 

He began to hurriedly walk towards the door. “Bye, then?” 

“You’ve got a customer!” He yelled over his shoulder as he passed Mike, and soon enough he was out the door and it slammed behind him. 

Will leant on the counter with his elbows, and looked at Mike who was still stood like a lost puppy. “You need any help, sir?”

Mike shook his head with laughter, realising he hadn’t laughed this much in a long time. “Actually, yes. I was looking for something called…  _ can William Byers please help me study because I’m panicking my ass off.”  _

“You know what, I might have to go and check in the back.” Will held a finger in the air as if he was actually about to go and have a look. 

“Don’t actually go and look, you  _ spoon.”  _

Will snickered. “I didn’t know pieces of cutlery were considered insults.”

“Well, they are now. So hurry up and help me before I call you a spatula.” Mike widened his eyes and raised his eyebrows, walking towards the counter that Will was stood behind. Will let out a fake - and dramatic - gasp, placing a hand to his chest as Mike walked around, taking his coat off and placing it on the back of one of the spinny chairs, he practically threw himself into it.

Will did the same, sitting in the chair next to him. The main counter was higher up, and underneath there was one that was lower down which had a computer which held all of the records. The two of them used that for studying, Will occasionally shooting up to go and help a customer. He rarely liked working, but that was one of the best shifts he had ever had. Mike just seemed to make everything so much better.

It was getting late, soon to closing time, and the two boys were sat in their spinny chairs facing each other. Their legs were on the other’s chair, becoming somewhat half tangled. They’d stopped studying, papers sprawled across the table. Will fiddled with the pen he held, trying his best not to slide backwards.

He felt good, because he felt like he’d finally found a person  _ he  _ could be close friends with. Mike would go to Will first, since he was his closest friend, not anyone else. In a way, Will had found his person. He hoped Mike thought he had found his, too. 

“Will?” Mike broke their brief silence. 

“Yeah?” Will tore his eyes away from the black pen and looked at him.

The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up now, and he caught sight of the red marks again. He didn’t say anything. 

Mike frowned, and then shook his head. “It- uh… it doesn’t matter.” 

“No, it’s okay. Go ahead.” 

Will wondered if he was slipping into one of those moods again, or maybe he was just tired. He didn’t know Mike would be in trouble for being home late again, and he didn’t realise that he’d actually stopped caring. Because spending time with Will made him forget. 

“When did you realise you were… you know…” 

“Short?”

“No.”

“A spoon?”

“No!”

“Wait, I got it… ambidextrous!”

“What? No!” Mike sighed, since he was trying to be serious. He knew that Will knew what he was talking about anyway. “Wait… you’re ambidextrous?”

“I like to think I am,” Will shrugged. “Anyway, you wanna know when I realised I was gay, I’m guessing?”

Mike nodded. 

“Probably when I was quite young, but I only admitted it to myself when I was like… fourteen.” Will explained, and Mike nodded again. “Why’d you ask?”

“Just curious.” He shrugged, biting the end of the pen he was holding. He was going to ask something else, but he decided against it. “It was just nice to see you being so open about it.” 

Will smiled, feeling like his heart was physically aching at the sight of Mike. His freckled cheeks had gone pink again, but this time because he was too warm rather than too cold. It was nice that Mike was asking questions like this, because most other times, Will would feel annoying if he spoke about it. His mind wondered, about exactly  _ why _ he would ask such a question, but he shook his head of the thought. 

“And it’s nice to see that you care.” Will nodded.

It had been a strange day, thinking back on everything. He’d seen Mike in several different moods, and it felt like a rollercoaster, in a sense. Highs and lows, ups and downs, stops and starts. It was the day that really established their friendship, though. They were closer than they’d ever been, and they trusted each other. Everything felt good, for once. For Mike, he only felt good at certain times, that was clear.

He only managed to laugh with Will, and he only managed to feel good around Will. 

But even then, he slipped back into reality. 

“Before we go,” Will started, the two of them were stood up now, all packed up and ready to leave. “I wanna give you something.” 

Mike held the strap of his backpack over one shoulder and he looked at Will with a frown, wondering what he was going to do. He routed through some videos at the back, and then let out a proud  _ aha! _ when he found what he was looking for. He held the video up in the air and smiled at it, walking over to Mike, he handed it to him. 

“What’s this?”

“This week’s movie recommendation, you’ve probably seen it, but I suggest you watch it again. It’s another one of my favourites.” Will crossed his arms and looked at Mike expectantly as he gazed down at the cover.

“This week’s?”

“I get one free every week but… I’ve seen most of them. So now, it’s your turn.” Will tapped the case that Mike was holding. “Just bring it back to me when you’re done, and I’ll swap it for another.” 

Mike looked at Will with a great sense of gratitude, and he was sure he was close to tears. It was only a small gesture, but it made him fill up since it was something so thoughtful. He felt like he didn’t deserve this amount of kindness, and he just wanted to hug Will and hold him tight. It made him think about  _ everything _ he had done for him.

“Back to the future?” Mike smiled down at the case, he had seen it before, but he would watch it again just because Will had asked him to. “You’d make a great Marty McFly.”

Will giggled, and then shrugged. “Don’t tell me you had a childhood crush on him.”

Mike let out a laugh, and shook his head, looking at the small object in his hands like he couldn’t believe it was real. “Thank you, Will.” 

“You don’t have to-” Will had started, but he was cut off when Mike stepped forward and pulled Will into a bear hug. He had to stand on his tiptoes so his chin could rest on Mike’s shoulder, and it took him a moment to wrap his arms around him in return since he was so taken aback by the gesture.

He felt Mike’s curls tickle his neck as he buried his face into his shoulder, holding on as tight as he could without crushing him to death. Will felt like his whole body was tingling like a TV static, but he still felt alive.

“Just let me say it.” 

Will wrapped his arms around him tighter, lost in the warmth of his touch. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this has taken so long folks, but here it is. i really appreciate all the support so far :) also i added a description to the spotify playlist (the link is on the last chapter) and i added chapter titles if you wanna take a look wHEEW be back soon


	6. boys don't cry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit i am SO sorry this has taken me like two months but i had exams and shit just got on top of me and i lost my motivation but here it is. i hope it was worth the wait?? let me know what you think!! love y'all.

_ It was a strange kind of feeling, one he’d never quite felt before. Of course the other boy, the first boy, made him feel something along those lines, but that was in the past, and for good reason. But this boy… this new boy… It was just funny how he could stand next to someone he’d only known for a short while, and feel like they were lifelong best friends who were _ _ - _

 

“Michael!” 

A sigh. Pen lifted from the paper. Train of thought lost for a moment, he altered his position where he lay chest down on his pitch black bed covers, pushing dark ringlets of hair from his face. He tried not to yawn, it wasn’t even late. 

“Who were… who were what?” Mike thought out loud, tapping his pen against his chin. If he was sat on a chair his leg would’ve been bouncing up and down like crazy. “Nothing.” 

He placed a neat full stop next to the word  _ friends _ after crossing out the rest. 

“Michael Wheeler!” 

 

_ You see, he was uncertain for a number of reasons. He had a difficult time letting people in, tearing down this invincible wall he appeared to have built, because he was afraid. He was afraid that he might get hurt, or the more likely outcome; he was afraid he might end up hurting someone else. _

 

He ignored the shout for the third time, he knew he was going to get in trouble for it, but he wouldn’t be able to let himself live if he lost this motivation. Dinner could wait, and besides, who would want to sit at a dinner table with the people that hated you the most in the entire world and eat something stupid like broccoli and cold steak?

 

_ I’m not hungry.  _

_ Oh, I already ate.  _

_ I had a big lunch, I’m fine. _

 

It was either one of those excuses or he’d take it to his room, wait until his parents had gone to bed, and then go back downstairs to throw it in the trash. An endless cycle, a routine carried out on autopilot. He felt like that sometimes, like he wasn’t controlling his body, just moving around with no purpose. 

The times he felt a sense of control were times when he felt like he was living and not some hollow corpse with no feelings. Specifically during his social studies lessons, study sessions, trips to the video store, watching the next movie he had been  _ so kindly _ given, drives around town in the passenger seat, trips to the quarry, sometimes the arcade. 

They all had one thing in common, didn’t they? 

 

_ No they don’t.  _

 

“Michael, dinner!”

“I’m coming.” Mike said, but not loud enough for them to hear him, he didn’t have the energy to shout. He didn’t have the energy for most things a lot of the time, but at that moment what he did have energy for, was getting this  _ stupid _ chapter done. 

He stared down at the page, a gap left for him to perfectly close things up if he could  _ just _ find the right words. It was never easy, any writer was fully aware of that, sometimes closing things off was the hardest part. No matter how much you wanted to, it’s always hard to come to an ending, to move on and start the next chapter; or even the next book. 

He leaned on the side of his hand and took a deep breath, he could feel himself beginning to get frustrated with everything. His writing, most obviously, but  _ everything  _ was just getting on his nerves. He hated his parents for making him feel like everything was his fault, he hated Nancy for leaving him, he hated Holly for not understanding, he hated  _ everyone _ at his old school. He even hated Will a little bit, well, he just hated how happy he seemed… how comfortable he was. Will didn’t struggle to speak to people, Will didn’t need extra help with school, Will didn’t react to things the way that Mike did. To Mike, Will just seemed too nice, and he hated it. He absolutely hated it. 

But he didn’t hate Will, and that was the annoying part; because for Mike, hating people was just the easier thing to do. It was easier to act like you hated someone rather than showing that you cared.

And he could never hate Will. He wouldn’t dream of it.

He threw his pen down and put his head in his hands, breathing in and out slowly, just like he’d been told to do countless times; but his chest kept tightening more and more. He almost started shaking, he was getting angry - this is how it always started before he lost control - and it wasn’t the best time because his mother was getting angry too. He needed to hurry up or something was going to get hurled across the room, or broken, or punched… or worse. 

He grabbed the pen again, clicked it a few times, trying to reach a part in his brain that he couldn’t find. He anxiously spun the pen around in his shaking hand, and then in one swift movement he brought it back down to the paper and wrote. 

 

_ But that’s what always happens. He can’t stop it no matter how much he wants to. He felt like a ticking time bomb in the careful hands of an angel.  _

_ It was only a matter of time.  _

_ Time. How he wished he could turn it back. _

 

“Michael! Dinner is getting cold!” His mother yelled again, and he shut his eyes for a moment and let out a sigh, finally feeling like he could breathe again. He heard his father yell a comment that he didn’t want to hear, so he decided not to hear it. He closed his book and sat up, tucking it under his pillow where he always kept it, and made his way downstairs.

On his way there he noticed some pictures had been put up on the walls - pictures of the family, when he was younger… when things were easy. There were no pictures from the last year, and he guessed that’s because everything fell apart. Nobody wanted a picture to remember that. At least his family understood one thing; there’s no point in faking a smile because someone will  _ always _ eventually figure out the truth. 

He found himself stood in the threshold of the dining room, feeling like a stranger in his own house. His eyes caught sight of someone that wasn’t normally there, usually he walked in to see three seats occupied but now he saw four were taken, and his older sister Nancy was sat talking happily to their parents whilst picking at her food. Mike suddenly felt an odd sense of relief; nothing would happen if she was there. At least he hoped it wouldn’t. 

“Mike!” She looked in his direction and gave him a smile, turning in her seat. “Wow, you look-”

“Like death? Yeah I know.” He shrugged, and then smiled a smile that was genuine; for once.

Nancy had currently just started her second year at college, and Mike always found himself wondering that maybe things wouldn’t have changed if she never left. He was happy for her, of course, because she was happy. When he was younger he would rather die than admit he missed his big sister when she was at a sleepover, but now? He missed her more than anything. 

Sometimes she seemed like the only person who was willing to listen to him. 

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You know that’s not what I meant."

“But you thought it.” Mike replied, taking a seat next to Nancy and opposite his mother. He was glad he didn’t have to sit opposite his father - he’d do anything to avoid it. “What are you doing here?” 

“Needed to get a few things so I thought I’d stop by and make a visit out of it.” She explained. “Are you not happy to see me?” 

“Of course I am. I hate having to be the older sibling when you’re not around.” Mike glanced at Holly who was sat at the end of the table, looking down at her food with the most bored expression on her face. Holly wasn’t like most eight year olds; she was actually rather mature, and most of the things that went on in the house usually went over her head. That, or she decided to ignore them. Mike was glad either way. 

Mike wasn’t that close with her, and in a way he blamed his parents for it. For all he knew, she was terrified of him, considering what lies they could’ve fed her. He really was a stranger in his own house, he didn’t belong there, he never would. Nancy belonged there more than he did and she didn’t even live there - but at least he felt more comfortable with her around. He felt safer. He hated that he didn’t feel safe in the one place he was supposed to. He’d feel safer lying in the middle of the street.

The dinner wasn’t going awfully, much to Mike’s surprise. Nothing bad had happened, no one had yelled or made comments directed towards him - that was what usually happened. He was used to it by now, but he still hated it. He hated how they always had to make him feel like he was some kind of villain. At least his mother had some sympathy, but his father wouldn’t hold back, and more often than not, no one would be able to stop him once he got started.

They’d finished eating, Mike had just poked his food around his plate and tried to make it look like he’d eaten more, not that they’d care anyway. They’d only care because it had gone to waste. Nancy was telling them about how college was going, and Mike just sat there watching. He watched his parents listening, and how they actually looked interested in what she was saying. They never looked like that when he spoke to them. 

That’s why he resorted to speaking as little as possible, and sometimes not at all. He knew when someone didn’t care, so he didn’t know how to react when someone did. Like he told Will, he wasn’t used to it. He knew Will cared, and that terrified him. 

 

_ I’m only going to end up hurting him.  _

 

_ He deserves better than that.  _

 

“What about you, Mike? Senior year, huh?” Nancy turned her attention towards him, and he heard his father sigh. He ignored it. 

He adjusted his position in his seat, having the urge to bring his knees up to his chest and hide his face. “Yeah, it’s going alright I guess. I was a bit behind so someone’s helping me out.” 

He thought about Will then, and found himself wishing he was with him - and anywhere would be okay - just as long as he was there. He was the only person who really made the past month bearable. Mike didn’t want to think about why his heart felt strange at the thought. 

His father cleared his throat. “You wouldn’t be behind if-”

 

_ So much for the evening going well. _

 

He cut himself off before his voice would start to raise and things would get out of hand, he would’ve continued if Mrs Wheeler didn’t throw him a harsh glance; unspokenly saying that it wasn’t the time for comments like that. Mike just looked at him, but not directly, he kept his head angled towards his plate of untouched food and glanced his direction. If he was hungry in the first place, he would’ve lost his appetite. 

Nancy also looked at him, and Mike could only guess that she was glaring. They were never that close during their younger years, but events had brought them closer together. She was always there for him - well, as much as she could be. Mike wasn’t sure what he’d do without her, and it scared him to think about it. He remembered calling her the first night they stayed in the new house, she’d been at college for a few days already and he  _ needed  _ to talk to her. He sat in front of his phone in his bedroom for about fifteen minutes, debating whether or not he’d be too much of a bother, before picking up the phone. 

 

_ “Hello?” _

_ “Hi Nancy, it’s Mike.” _

_ “Oh, hi Mike. Are you okay?” _

_ “It happened again.” _

_ “Oh jesus…”  _

_ “He just wouldn’t stop yelling.”  _

_ “Just stay in your room for a bit, okay?” _

_ “Yeah… Can you stay on the phone? Just for a little bit.” _

_ “Sure, I can.” _

 

They proceeded to stay on the phone with each other for about an hour and a half, Nancy did most of the talking, telling Mike what college was like. He needed the distraction, because at that moment he didn’t have anyone else. Gradually, as time went on, he called her less and less. She was building her own life, and Mike thought that she didn’t want her little brother calling her every other night with his problems. In her eyes, things had got better. That was what Mike told her, anyway. 

“Well I’m sure he’s not as behind now. Are you, Mike?” His mother asked him, and then he realised just how little she knew about how he was doing in school. She rarely asked so he didn’t tell her much. She always had more sympathy, Mike could tell, but sometimes she just couldn’t stand up to her own husband. She used to be incredibly kind and caring - the best mother he ever would have wished for - but she had changed. It was the little things Mike noticed, like the way she sat at the table, the level of her voice, and sometimes she even avoided looking at him.

She avoided looking at her own son in the eye. Sometimes, Mike wanted to scream at her, ask her what sort of lies she’d been fed to make her like this. To make her look like she was looking at a stranger, or some homeless guy on the street. She was trying, Mike knew that, but he just wished she would try harder. He’d give her those pleading looks sometimes, but she’d just look away. Mike knew that was why he felt as if he didn’t deserve anyone’s attention, because he couldn’t even get his mother’s. 

He pushed his food around on his plate with the fork. “No, Will’s a good tutor.” 

They’d been studying together a lot - at Will’s house, the library, the arcade and even sometimes the video store. Mike often stayed out as long as he could to avoid going home, it had become some sort of unplanned routine. They didn’t study all the time, they liked to watch some of Will’s movie recommendations together, in the same place on Will’s living room floor. By this point, Mike didn’t mind speaking to Joyce, he didn’t say much but he wasn’t completely mute like the first time he met her. 

“I’ve heard about that kid.” His father said, and Mike’s heart dropped in his chest. “You shouldn’t be spending time with him, Michael.” 

Mike didn’t know why, or  _ how,  _ but he was aware of what his father knew. The last thing he wanted was for Will to be brought into this. 

“I can spend time with whoever I want to spend time with.” Mike tried not to spit his words out like they were poison in his mouth. He gripped the side of his chair, he could already feel his chest tightening and his heart rate picking up. 

His father dropped his fork to the table, making a clattering sound that caused his mother to flinch. “After all you’ve put this family though? You don’t get to decide that anymore!” 

Nancy frowned and leaned forward in her seat. “Dad-” 

“You can’t speak to me like that. I don’t care if you’ve got issues, they’re no excuse for this. I can’t believe after  _ all _ you’ve put us through, you just-”

Mike stopped listening after that. He didn’t want to hear it. He was going to get angry. This was how it always started. 

Unfortunately, it always ended the same way, too. 

 

-

 

Will sat alone at his dining table in the low light, the room only illuminated by a small lamp on top of a cabinet and the streetlight that was rather closely placed outside. He was engulfed by a hoodie that was too big for him - one of Jonathan’s from college that he managed to steal. He wore some sweatpants for sleeping in, like he always did during the colder months, and his favourite fluffy rainbow socks were pulled up over the bottom of them to conceal as much heat as he could. It was only late October, but it was getting extremely cold at night already, and Will didn’t cope well with cold weather in general. During the cold months he had at least three blankets to sleep with, as well as his comforter, and he wasn’t ashamed. 

He was working in his sketchbook, his favourite pencil in his hand and extremely concentrated eyes. Will understood that it would probably be better if he were to go and work in his bedroom since it was late -  _ 01:37am,  _ the clock read - his mother could walk in at any moment and whisk him away to get some sleep; but it wasn’t even a school night. He much preferred working at the dining table because he had much more space to spread out his thoughts and ideas. 

He was currently drawing some comic strips, because he found it was something he thoroughly enjoyed. Most of the ones he had created had been suggestions from Mike, every time he would see him he’d give Will another idea and as _ soon  _ as Will had a moment to himself, he’d start drawing. His creative block was fading away, and at some point he realised that Mike was the reason for that. He wanted to draw because the ideas that Mike had were simply amazing. He had yet to show them to him, he wanted to build up a collection of them to give to him for his birthday or christmas or something; yet he was finding it hard to contain himself sometimes. 

They were mostly inspired by movie characters, they’d be watching a movie and Mike would pull this very certain facial expression - widened eyes, mischievous smile - and Will would know he’d had some sort of brainwave. He’d then become extremely excited and launch into a huge explanation about exactly what Will should draw. 

They’d laugh hysterically at the ideas he’d come up with, like laughing so hard your stomach would ache and you’d get tears coming from your eyes. Sometimes they’d forget what they were laughing about, and just continued to laugh just because the other was laughing. There was nothing he enjoyed more than just laughing with Mike, especially since he seemed a lot happier and more comfortable recently, he still had his moments, but ultimately he seemed to be doing  _ okay.  _

 

_ “Your laugh is adorable, Byers. It’s actually hilarious.”  _

 

One time, he told him he should mix  _ Footloose  _ with  _ The Shining, _ which materialised into a rather interesting discussion about Kevin Bacon dancing around a haunted hotel, and then Mike even went on to suggest that he should add  _ Flashdance  _ in there. 

 

_ “So when she pulls the chain, instead of water… it’s blood. That’s genius, don’t you think, William?”  _

 

Will did think it was genius. He thought it was beyond incredible, because when Mike would go into his little creative explanations, Will would become extremely captivated by them - probably looking at him like he was some sort of angel sent down from heaven. He explained things so well that Will could actually see them in his head, sometimes he liked to describe Mike as a  _ walking book  _ because he was that good. He sat there, itching to grab his sketchbook and take notes, but he didn’t need to; because Mike’s voice seemed to be  _ really  _ good at sticking in his head. 

Sometimes he’d lay awake in bed, not able to sleep because his mind would be flooding with all of these things that Mike would talk about. His voice stuck in his head like a catchy song from  _ The Cure  _ or  _ Bowie.  _ That was the difference, though, usually he’d do all in his power to get a song out of his head, but he didn’t do that with Mike’s voice. He didn’t want it to leave. He’d be staring up at his ceiling and he could hear it so clearly that he would almost feel as if he was next to him, and he hated to admit it, but he found himself wishing he was. Maybe he wanted to lay in the grass with Mike next to him, maybe he wanted to look at the stars with him, maybe he wanted him to tell him a story.  _ Any story. Make something up.  _ Maybe Will was starting to feel different around him. Maybe Will had a crush. 

 

_ No. _

 

_ I don’t have a crush.  _

 

_ Pull yourself together, Will, you soft fuck.  _

 

Things were changing, though, he couldn’t deny that. Whenever he was around him he could feel his cheeks starting to heat up when Mike would make a comment, or his heart would feel strange when he would wear a new outfit, or if his hair was a little curlier one day… or the few times he was close enough to see his freckles. He could usually push away that burning feeling inside of him, but it was getting more and more difficult, it felt just like it did last time - only it was different than that. It was very much different, the feelings all felt new and they were unlike anything Will had ever felt before, and he didn’t know what to do with them at all. 

Not that he should’ve done anything with them, pushing them back and telling himself that he’d get over it in a short while was something he found himself doing a lot. That was always the case with Will, sometimes he’d get a random crush and it’d only last for a few weeks and it would disappear like it was never there. He was sure it would be the same with Mike - he was new, and unarguably incredibly good looking in Will’s opinion, so naturally he formed some sort of attraction to him. It was going to pass in a short amount of time, just like they always did; he was absolutely certain. 

He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, taken by surprise he turned in his seat to meet the sleepy eyes of his mother looking down at him. Thankful he didn’t go to attack her on impulse, he placed his pencil down and let it rest on the paper. “What are you still doing up, honey?” She asked, reaching up to fluff his hair with her hand. 

“I’m having a creative burst and I need to keep a hold of it before it disappears.” He smiled at her, gesturing to the amount of papers and art equipment sprawled out across the table. 

She looked at him for a few moments, a concerned expression on her face. “Well, can you tell your  _ creative bursts  _ to come to you at a time that’s not the middle of the night, in future?” 

He pulled his socked feet up to his chest as he watched her take a seat opposite him, he suddenly felt bad for waking her - although he was unsure whether it was his fault - taking note of her dishevelled hair and the bags under her eyes. He still thought she looked wonderful, though, she always did. She was his mother, one of his best friends, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit that. 

“You can’t push away creativity, Mom. You should know this by now.” He rolled up the sleeves of his hoodie, suddenly realising he may have overestimated how cold the night would be. 

“I know, I know. I just want you to actually get a decent sleep, that’s all.” She explained, and then noticed the empty mug with a few centimetres of cold liquid in the bottom. “Coffee? You drank coffee?” 

“I had it hours ago, I promise.” He told her, although it wasn’t entirely true. In truth he felt like he could sprint down the street at that very moment, he had that much energy in him.

She pushed her fringe out of her face, and Will got the impression that she knew he was lying, but she decided to let it slide. “What are you working on, then? This doesn’t look like your usual stuff.” She picked up one of the loose papers that had a few random sketches on, such as character profiles and settings. 

“Trying out something new, I guess.” He shrugged, and couldn’t hide the smile that was growing on his face. 

He knew his mother was looking at him with squinted eyes as if she were trying to figure him out, which only made him smile more, for some strange reason. He wished he could stop smiling, but no matter how much he tried it didn’t seem to be working in the slightest. “What are you getting all smiley about?”

“Nothing.” Will said, somewhat too suddenly, forcing his expression into a frown. “I’m just happy with it, that’s all.”

“I don’t believe you.” She taunted, and then Will tried his best not to shoot her a glare. “Does it have anything to do with your new friend?”

He picked up his pencil again and started drawing, just so he could avoid her watchful gaze. “Nope.” 

“Hmm, okay.” She nodded, and Will really hated how she could read him like a book. He wondered if that was just a thing all mothers did, and he’d just have to deal with it. He must’ve wished hard enough, because she had suddenly changed the topic. “Anyway, I’m only awake because I’ve gotta pick Jonathan up from the airport and his flight gets in at a stupid time, you’re gonna be okay here, right?” 

Will then remembered Jonathan was coming home to visit because he got some time off, he was studying at NYU, just like he always wanted. He didn’t get to travel home that often, but he did whenever he could. Will suddenly felt a sense of excitement, and he let himself smile by this point; he always loved spending time with his brother. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” 

“Okay, sweetheart.” She smiled and then rose from her seat, squeezing Will’s shoulder on her way back to her bedroom to get ready. “Go and get some sleep, and no more coffee!” 

“I promise!” Will called after her when she was half way down the hall, despite the fact that the promise would be broken not long after. 

She got ready in a matter of minutes and left, not before telling Will that he needed to go to sleep at least three more times, and that he weren’t to make any more coffee. Just before she left the house and locked the doors securely behind her, she took a last glance at Will’s unfinished comicstrips and smiled softly, like she could tell just how much they meant to him. She even laughed at some of them, which made Will feel great - if he were to publish them one day, people would laugh. That was usually how Will felt positive about himself, by making people laugh or even smile. He was always the one to do the cheering up, and he did it so much to the point where he realised sometimes he needed cheering up too. 

About half an hour passed and he still hadn’t gone to bed, but he wasn’t tired yet and he’d completed about six pages worth of work - he wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. He worked for at least another hour after that, and then he felt his eyes closing. He had his head propped up on his hand and he had to force himself to keep his eyes open. He finished one drawing in the corner of his page and then decided to call it a night, he stood up from his hunched position and stretched, feeling his back click in multiple places. He mumbled a quiet  _ ‘gross’  _ to himself before tidying away all his papers. 

He stopped abruptly when he heard a noise from outside, like something had fallen over. He looked towards the kitchen window with wide eyes and stayed quiet, to see if he could hear anything again. Soon enough he heard some pacing footsteps on the gravel just outside his porch, and Will’s heart dropped. 

 

_ Well, fuck. I’m going to die. _

 

_ Death is literally on my doorstep. _

 

_ It’s because I’m gay, isn’t it? Is that what it is?  _

 

Will would’ve laughed to himself if he wasn’t scared out of his mind. He looked frantically around him to find something to defend himself with, grabbing the first thing he saw he ended up with a broomstick in his hands. He’d watched enough horror movies to know what you shouldn’t do in these kind of situations, yet Will had already done the most stupid thing. 

Grab a shitty weapon: check. Saying ‘hello?’ to alleged murderer: almost check. Running up the stairs… Will didn’t have any stairs. He almost jumped with joy at the thought, having the urge to scream:  _ “Fuck you, murderer! You can’t chase me up the stairs because I haven’t got any! How’s that for ya!”.  _ Thankfully, Will did all in his power to keep his mouth shut, remaining as quiet as possible; despite how much he wanted to yell out profanities. 

The best he could do would be to listen out for any more movement, so he did. Eventually, he heard some heavy and fast paced breaths, which made Will frown in confusion. He wondered if his murderer was having some sort of panic attack, and if Mike were there he’d probably make up some dramatic story about how the lone murderer was actually pressured into it for some elaborate reason - it’d certainly calm Will down but it wouldn’t be appropriate for a time like that. He wondered how Mike would be in a situation like this - would he be completely unfazed by it? Or would he be freaking out and hiding in the most far away corner he could find? 

Will decided this wasn’t a good time to be wondering about random things that crossed his mind, so he tried to peer out the window. Unfortunately, the curtains were drawn and he couldn’t see through them very well, plus, it was dark, so he had no chance against whoever this person was. As he stood there in fluffy rainbow socks with a broom as a weapon, he realised he hardly stood a chance in the first place.

_ “Fuck.” _

It was a harsh whisper - and it sounded like they’d hit something and hurt themselves, or knocked something over. He stepped backwards in reaction to the sound, but as he thought it over he realised that the voice was incredibly familiar. Will frowned when he heard the person sniffling, and they sounded like they were getting increasingly angry with themself and they were about to explode right on his porch. He attempted to push the murderer ideas out of his head and slowly walked out of the kitchen towards the front door. 

A million different thoughts were racing through his mind, to the point where he had no idea what to do with himself, so he just moved on autopilot; inching closer to the door. He stopped every few seconds to listen out for any movement, and it sounded like the person had sat down on the porch steps with a sigh. Will stood still for about a minute after that, and it was completely silent - but he knew that this person was still there, like when you can’t see someone is looking at you; but you can feel it all over your body. 

Eventually, Will found himself stood in front of the door, unlocking it and pulling it open after taking a deep breath to psych himself up. He firstly felt the cold air wash over him, and he winced before looking down at the boy who was sat - back faced to him - on his front porch steps. He was hugging himself in an effort to keep warm, but it didn’t appear to be working very well since he was visibly shaking. His leg nervously bounced up and down and his hair blew lightly around in the breeze, his figure illuminated by the orange glow from the streetlight. 

 

_ Michael Wheeler. Of course it’s you. _

 

Will didn’t want to scare him, so he stepped forward slowly and spoke in a soft voice. “Mike?” 

He didn’t turn around straight away, and it appeared to Will that it took him a few moments to even process that someone was standing behind him; waiting for him to say something. If it were anyone else, Will would’ve been mad. He’d probably be yelling, but because it was Mike, he didn’t feel an ounce of anger in his body. He was only rather confused, and saddened at the sight of him looking so lost. 

Eventually, he turned his head to the side and glanced at Will. “Oh shit, I- uh…” stumbling over his words, trying to untangle his fingers that he was messing with in a panic. “Will, I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up I just-”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Will said softly, stepping forward to go to sit next to Mike where he sat. He placed a hand on his shoulder as he passed him, and Mike sucked in a breath in reaction and brought up his hand to touch Will’s for a few seconds when he sat down. His eyes followed him like a fascinated, but sad, child who couldn’t quite believe what they were seeing. “What’s wrong?”

Mike was in a daze for a few more moments, hand still on top of Will’s where it lay comfortingly on his shoulder. When he realised their skin was touching, he quickly moved his hand away and nervously crossed his arms. “I didn’t know where else to go, I just…” He winced and touched the side of his forehead. “Fuck.”

“Jesus, Mike.” Will said loudly in reaction to seeing the state of his face, and when he flinched Will changed his voice to a whisper. “What happened to you?” 

The light wasn’t the best, but Will could clearly see that Mike had some cuts and bruises on his face, as well as a cut on the side of his head that was still bleeding. He’d been crying, that was clear, and he looked extremely tired. His voice was scratchy and worn out when he spoke, like he had been in a screaming match. Will knew, almost instantly, that Mike wouldn’t have wanted to go to Will’s unless it was his last resort. That was the problem with Mike, he hated asking for help even when he really needed it. 

“Arguing with my parents, usual stuff.” He shrugged, staring down at his lap. “I needed to leave so I took a walk through the woods, then I tripped and got myself messed up like a fucking idiot.” 

Will looked at his face - he could very well have been lying to him, but he did look like he’d tripped in the woods; Will had done it a fair few times himself. His hair was a mess, there was even a small leaf in it, and if he looked close enough he could see dirt on his skin. “It’s almost three in the morning, how long have you been out?” Will asked, after taking a few moments to process what Mike had said. 

He pulled his coat around him tighter. “Few hours.” A shrug - like it was nothing. 

Will shot up from his sitting position and stood on his steps looking down at Mike’s shivering figure, and held out a hand. “You’re freezing your ass off, come inside.” 

“Will, I can’t. I’ll wake your-”

“No one’s home.” Will cut him off, and then waited for a few moments before moving his outstretched hand closer to him. “Come on.” 

Mike looked at him for a while - Will didn’t really remember exactly how long but it felt like a while. His sad eyes gazing up at him like he had no idea what to do, he just seemed so lost and vulnerable. But in his heart Will knew that Mike was one of the strongest people out there, he just needed to believe it. Will was aware that he had been through a lot, and his family life wasn’t the best, but at least he was there. He was breathing. That was what really mattered. 

Will knew that better than anyone. 

Ten minutes later, they were both inside behind the locked door and in the warmth, and Will told Mike to sit on the table whilst he gathered some supplies to clean him up. He sat there waiting, with his legs dangling down and swinging back and forth, Will’s favourite blanket wrapped around his shoulders and his muddy coat hanging on the back of one of the chairs. His trusty black boots were taken off at the door, and he’d rolled up his dark blue jeans because, when doing so he told Will:  _ it’s way cooler that way.  _ Will could only reply with:  _ You think  _ I  _ don’t know that? _

Will was relieved when that got a quiet laugh out of him.

“So where’s your mom?” Mike asked in a quiet voice, looking to the side where Will stood, looking through a box of medical supplies that was placed on the table next to where Mike sat. 

Will had found what he needed, but he continued to root through the box just to avoid looking in Mike’s eyes, because he was almost certain he’d melt considering how close they were. “Picking my brother up from the airport. She won’t be back until late afternoon so… yeah.” 

“He visiting from college?”

Will nodded, glancing at Mike’s face for a moment. It felt strange, because he had an excuse to assess every inch of his face for once. He was sure he had it memorised by now, or he could surely plan on doing it if he wanted to. Every freckle, every perfectly curled dark eyelash, the angle of his cheekbones, how much his lips parted when he was deep in thought. He tore his eyes away and grabbed a cloth, putting some antiseptic on it. He was hardly a doctor, but his mother had cleaned him up enough times for him to remember the basics. 

Mike kept his eyes looking forward, like he was afraid of making eye contact with Will, too. “So’s my sister. I thought her being there would diffuse the tension in the house, but  _ somehow  _ it made it ten times worse.” 

 

_ He said “the house” rather than “home”.  _

 

_ Does that mean anything or am I reading into it too much? _

 

_ I’m probably reading into it too much.  _

 

“None of this… happened there, right?” Will asked, before he even thought it over. He let himself glance at Mike again, who looked down to his hands for a moment. 

He shook his head. “No,  _ no.  _ This is all the result of me being a clumsy idiot.” The way he said it was believable, but Will still had the thought in the back of his head that he was lying. Which, you’ll be glad to know, he wasn’t. “I promise.” 

“Well, it’s not hard to imagine you tripping over your tree legs, I guess.” Will let out a laugh, and Mike frowned at him as if he looked offended. 

“You can shut it, short stuff.” He glared, and then it was Will’s turn to look offended. He stepped back and stood in front of Mike, still making sure that there was a reasonable distance between them. He’d have to get closer sooner or later, but he didn’t want to collapse right there in the kitchen at three in the morning. 

Mike stopped swinging his legs abruptly. Will held up the cloth in his right hand. “I won’t even apologise for the fact that this is gonna hurt like a bitch because  _ you  _ have hurt my feelings and you deserve it.” 

“William!” Mike gasped. “You wound me.”

Will stepped forward, almost ending up between Mike’s legs. “You wounded yourself, dumbass.” 

He reached up in search of the cut on the side of Mike’s head, and realised it was underneath his hair. He stepped slightly closer, extremely unsure, and he looked at anything but Mike’s eyes. He knew he was looking smug, a little smirk on his face maybe. Given the circumstances, it was weird to see him change so quickly, just by being in the presence of a friend. His friend. His best friend. 

Will found the leaf that was in Mike’s hair and took it out, before half raking his fingers through it to hold it back, away from the right side of his face. It felt so soft between his fingers despite the fact he’d been wandering around in the woods, and the wind, for a few hours before. Mike’s eyes were cast downwards as Will brought the cloth up to clean the cut, he winced in pain but he held in any urge to punch the closest thing to him; which was usually how he dealt with anything that hurt. 

“Your socks.” Mike pointed out, looking at Will’s fluffy rainbow socks.

Will let out a laugh. “You like them?” 

“Yeah, they’re adorable.” He nodded.

“Keep still, Wheeler.” Will told him, he had moved his hand out of his hair now and was cleaning up some of the grazes that were near his chin, his hand rested on the other side of Mike’s face - almost like he was cupping it. Like he was about to- “Thank you, though. I should get you some and then we can match.” 

Mike was about to nod again but he stopped himself, so he just smiled. To Will, he looked so perfect in the kitchen light, and he could only imagine how he would look in the summer. Sun kissed and freckled cheeks, his innocent yet smug expression and a smile to melt a million hearts. Mike Wheeler would look good in any season, any day, any time - whether it was midday or midnight - Mike Wheeler would still look beautiful. 

A few quiet moments passed of Will silently debating his thoughts as he slowly cleaned the dirt from Mike’s face, and then Mike broke the silence with: “Don’t you think love is stupid?” 

“What?” 

“Well-” He started, taking a moment to think over what he was going to say. Will thought it was a strange thing to bring up so randomly, but he was listening. “I think I’ve had shitty experiences with it so I’m starting to believe it doesn’t actually exist, you know?” 

Will frowned. “What do you mean by ‘bad experiences’?” 

“My parents clearly don’t love each other, I don’t know why they bother trying. And I… I don’t think I’m capable of loving anyone, I mean- not like  _ that  _ anyway.” He explained, and Will was barely cleaning his face anymore, but he still left his hand where it was. 

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.” Will shrugged. “Tease me all you want but I still believe in love.” 

“I’m not going to tease you, Byers.” Mike smiled. “Honestly, I wish I did believe in it… but nothing ever works out the way you want it to, does it?” 

“You’re right, it doesn’t,” Will told him. “It’s just a case of finding the right person.” 

A short silence followed. “Will?”

“Yeah?” 

“Have you ever been in love?” 

When Will woke up that morning, he never would’ve thought he’d be cleaning up Mike Wheeler’s bruised face at three in the morning, having a deep discussion about the existence of love. It was so strange it was almost laughable, but then again it wasn’t. It was the kind of conversation he always wanted to have, deep down, but he never had anyone to share it with - or anyone who thought it was actually important to talk about.

Will looked down at his socks for a moment. “I think so.” 

“What was it like?”

Will knew that Mike didn’t intend to pry, and he wasn’t; he was just innocently curious. He didn’t say anything for a few moments, memories of the past flooded into his brain like a dam had burst and they almost escaped through tears in his eyes. He held them back. 

“Honestly, words can’t explain it.” Will said, feeling a dull ache in his chest. “But you’ll know it when you feel it. And you  _ will  _ feel it, okay?” 

Mike smiled at him sadly, letting himself nod because Will had pulled his hands away from his face. Neither of them wanted that but they wouldn’t say it out loud. “Sorry, this is probably a weird thing to talk about.”

Will shook his head to tell Mike that it wasn’t weird at all, it was actually refreshing; nice to talk about a topic that people usually avoided. “So, you’ve never loved anyone in  _ that _ way before?” 

Mike breathed out shakily, and Will found himself wishing that he didn’t ask. “I thought I did. But I find it too easy to trick myself into feeling something that isn’t there.” He let out a yawn and rubbed his eyes, he sounded like he was drunk but he was just incredibly tired. “Or maybe it was. I’m probably just saying that to make myself feel better… about what he did.”

 

_ Did he just… say “he”? _

 

_ Was he in love with a guy? _

 

Will opened and closed his mouth as he tried to find the right words, but nothing came out. He just looked at Mike, who clearly had no idea what he just said because he looked like he was falling asleep sitting up. After a few moments of trying, Will gave up with words, so he reached forward and put a hand on Mike’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. 

“Come on, you need some sleep, you’re literally gonna pass out.” He told him, and Mike suddenly widened his eyes. 

He seemed panicked. “I can’t go home.” 

“I’m not making you, you can stay in my bed.”

“But-”

“Shut it, Michael. You’re not allowed to say no.” He explained, and then held an arm out to help the half asleep boy down from the table. 

He stood up, and then took Will by surprise by pulling him into a hug. When he first met Mike, he didn’t think he’d be a hugger at all, but he seemed to like hugging him an awful lot. Just standing there, chin rested on the top of his head, squeezing him not too tightly in his arms. Will would get lost in the warmth and the scent, it was beautifully familiar by this point - almost like it smelt of home. 

“You’re too nice to me.” Mike had moved his head and buried it in Will’s shoulder. “You’re always too nice to me.” 

Trying to get to sleep was a nightmare, Mike almost immediately passed out as soon as he collapsed onto Will’s bed - so Will pulled his covers around him to make sure he was warm. He looked down at him for a moment, and he didn’t resist the urge to reach forward and brush a ringlet of dark hair out of his closed eye. He knew he was a mess, Will was a mess too; but maybe that’s why they got along so well. 

Mike was different, though. Mike was a  _ beautiful  _ mess. He was like some dark abstract painting, and all any ordinary viewer could see would be darkness. But Will, Will was an artist. He knew how to look closer, he knew how to separate the tones and the movement. He knew how to see all the beauty in something that seemed so sad. Although he didn’t know all of the reasons why, he just understood. He understood without the details, and that scared him to death. 

Will didn’t sleep at all that night. 


	7. nicotine dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Just-” Will started after a few more moments of silence. Well, almost silence - apart from the muffled sound of I Hate Myself For Loving You being played inside the house where the party was still going on. “Just don’t worry about it, okay?” He didn’t look at Mike, he just kept his eyes fixed on his shoes. He felt him looking right at him when he spoke up again, and he wanted nothing more than a giant hole to open in the floor so he could fall through it. “I don’t want you to worry about it.”
> 
> “William.” Mike sighed, and Will heard the sound of him pushing himself off the wall and slow footsteps in his direction. “When someone tells you not to worry about it,” He was almost whispering, and Will knew he was stood just inches away, looking down with his head ducked and his hands in his pockets. “You usually worry about it more than you were in the first place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has taken YEARS again and i deeply apologise, y'all deserve better than this mediocre shit. anyways, i hope it's somewhat readable. enjoy mr william byers swooning over mike in his halloween costume. also tw for some homophobia. this is a Wild one to say the least.

“So, who are you going as again?” 

Max was frowning from her seated position on Will’s kitchen counter, neither of them changed into their halloween costumes yet. She was wearing some jogging pants and an oversized band shirt that Will couldn’t quite make out, as for himself - he was wearing his trusty denim overalls and a striped shirt underneath. The rainbow socks, of course, were a necessity when he was in the comfort of his own home. 

Will sighed and walked towards one of the seats that were placed neatly around the dining table, pulling it out with one hand before practically throwing himself into it and putting his feet up on the table. If Joyce were there, she would push them right off in passing; without saying a word. She was like that most of the time, she’d move Will around if he was in her way when she could simply just ask him. Will thought it was nice, though - in a strange kind of way. 

Will crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve told you at least…” he pretended to count on his fingers, and before Max could emphasise how dramatic he was being, he cut her off. “Seven times? No… Probably, like, twelve.” 

“Bullshit.” Max scoffed and proceeded to roll her eyes. “Twice at most.”

Will raised an eyebrow. “Debatable.” 

Max frowned once more, and then proceeded to reach to the bag of tortilla chips to her right; after grabbing one out of the bag she threw it in Will’s direction. 

Will successfully dodged the chip that flew through the air by quickly leaning to the side. “Hey!” He picked it up from where it landed on the table and threw it back at Max, and she somehow managed to catch it. “If I wanted one, I would’ve asked you.”

“Well,” Max shrugged, shoving the potato chip in her mouth. “It’s mine now.” 

Will shook his head with a sigh. “You disgust me, Mayfield.” 

“Girl’s gotta eat.”

Will looked at Max as if to say:  _ There’s a whole bag of chips right next to you, you totally could’ve just had one of those.  _ She didn’t react, she just looked at Will blankly as he sat there fiddling with the ring that was placed securely around his left middle finger; it was just a simple silver ring - but it comforted him for reasons he didn’t like to let his mind linger on. They both didn’t speak for a few moments, the only sound coming from the old radio on the windowsill;  _ The Promise _ by  _ When in Rome _ playing softly, Will tapping his fingers to the beat on his leg and Max singing along to the occasional word under her breath.

Will crossed his arms across his chest and leant back into his chair. “What are you going as, anyway? Have you even planned anything?” 

Max raised an eyebrow. “Of  _ course _ I planned something. Who do you think I am?” 

“The same person who wrapped themselves in toilet roll the other year - two minutes before going trick-or-treating - because they couldn’t be bothered to plan anything in advance.” 

Max looked at Will in shock, and then opened and shut her mouth in an effort to come up with something to get back at her best friend. She’d always been like that, she had to have the last word, no matter the situation or how stupid it was. She didn’t like losing, even when it was something as petty as a quip-off. Max Mayfield would  _ never  _ back down. 

“That was one time, I am a changed woman. I’m going all out this year.” She raised her voice when she began to speak and crossed her arms across her chest when she had finished. Will simply looked at her as if he didn’t believe her, and Max - feeling like she was losing (whatever this was) - felt the need to change the subject to get Will back. “So, how’s Mike, then?” 

 

_ Fuck you, Mayfield.  _

_ What does he have to do with any of this?  _

 

Why his brain immediately became defensive every time someone  _ innocently  _ brought up Mike Wheeler, Will would never know. Any time people would ask about him, they were simply curious, of course. Everyone knew that Will was closer to Mike than anyone else was, so it only made logical sense. Perhaps he would figure out why his brain was reacting this way, when he also figured out why his heart continued to beat faster every time he’d be close to him. It was getting more noticeable by the day, and more difficult to ignore; he was afraid someone would start to notice. 

Will felt on the verge of feeling something he didn’t particularly want to feel, like one accidental brush of their arms or a lingering gaze could completely push him over the edge - and he’d be done for. At this point, Will would just call this a strong admiration for someone; Mike was one of the most complex people he had ever met, so he just kept telling himself that it was something purely along the lines of infatuation. Like, when you have a stupid crush on a celebrity. It’s not serious, it doesn’t mean anything… it’s not an  _ actual  _ crush. Will hadn’t known Mike for all that long - well, almost two months - but if things continued how they were going, Will would be in  _ deep _ shit. Not that it would be an issue, he just didn’t want things to end up like last time. Not again. 

But, for the love of god, Will thought that Mike Wheeler - his friend, Michael Wheeler - was completely wonderful. It was everything that had slowly started to piece together, like a puzzle with an endless amount of pieces; it would never be complete but he’d start to understand it more and more as things came together. The way he seemed to struggle with explaining things, but once he got into it there was no stopping him - Will loved the sound of his voice more than anything. He knew that sounded weird, but it was true, and he hated that it was true. In a way, he loved how he became more relaxed as he spent more time with someone, maybe it was just Will he did that with - but he had witnessed a change in him, from their first meeting in the school bathroom to the other day in the Byers’ kitchen. It was a profound, and comforting change. Will knew Mike was hurting, so he could only hope that this was a sign that he was helping him. 

Over the past few days, Will couldn’t shake the image of Mike from his brain. It was like one of those compilations you’d see in the movies, where it just flashed through scenes of someone just looking so perfect in every way imaginable. Mike sat opposite him behind the counter in the video store, eyes drooping, hair in his face. Mike sat on Will’s living room floor, the light from the television screen reflecting off his features and Will reluctantly becoming happier every single time he laughed. Mike stood at the quarry, pink cheeks and hair lightly blowing in the wind. Mike sat in the passenger seat of Will’s car, feet up on the dashboard, drinking a milkshake. Mike sat next to him during lunch in school, bumping his knee against his. Mike sat two inches from Will’s face as he cleaned up his cuts. And, most unforgettably - Mike laying in Will’s bed and falling asleep almost instantly, Will brushing a stray curl out of his face.

It was memory he’d tried so hard to push back even though it was a mere few days ago, which sounded stupid - but the way Mike looked in that moment almost brought Will’s heart to a delightful yet painful stop. He remembered turning away and leaving Mike to sleep in his room, resorting to the sofa to attempt to get some sleep, which unfortunately, was a huge failure. It just made Will think over everything: the past, the present, the future… and everything in between. 

In the morning, Will woke up, assuming he must’ve dozed off for about an hour. He reluctantly dragged himself to his room, to find Mike gone and the bed made perfectly; a folded piece of paper left neatly on the pillow. He walked towards it, picked it up, and unfolded it - feeling nervous for reasons unknown to him.

 

_ Thanks for letting me stay, your bed is more comfortable than mine. And I’m sorry for just showing up like that, I should’ve at least tried to call you. I really appreciate you helping me out, though. It means more than you think. Had to leave early before parents woke up. Go catch up on your sleep. You looked pretty uncomfortable on that sofa. Still cute, though.  _

_ See you soon, Will. _

_ Mike W.  _

 

Long story short, Will kept that letter in the drawers of his bedside table, and he’d keep it for a very long time. Seeing all of that scrawled across a piece of paper in Mike’s messy, yet unmistakable, handwriting was enough to warm Will’s heart and to keep a smile on his face for the rest of the day. It was the same writing used for all of his ideas in that little black notebook, and now Will felt like he had a piece of it, even though it didn’t really belong there at all. At least, that’s what he thought at the time.

And yet, to answer Max’s question, all Will could really manage to say was: “Yeah, he’s fine.” 

 

_ That’s probably one of the biggest lies I’ve ever told.  _

 

Max didn’t look impressed in the slightest. “That’s it?” 

“What?”

“You sit there for a good minute, looking like you’re deep in thought about some shit, and all you can say is ‘ _ he’s fine _ ’?” Max scoffed.

“I don’t know what else you want me to tell you.” Will shrugged, trying to brush off the conversation like it was nothing. 

Max looked - well, glared - at Will for a few moments like she was trying to read him like a book, but Will could make himself completely unreadable if he tried hard enough. Max hated it. “I’ll find out soon enough.” 

Will almost broke his nonchalant act when Mike’s voice saying:  _ still cute, though _ \- popped into his head out of nowhere. Which was ridiculous, because he never  _ said  _ that to Will, he just wrote it. But that’s when Will realised, as he read the note more and more, he’d been reading it in his voice. He cleared his throat before saying, “There’s nothing  _ to _ find out.” 

“That’s not what your huge silence says.” 

“Silence doesn’t  _ say _ anything, that’s literally what a silence is.” Will tried not to roll his eyes.

Max almost threw another chip at Will, but she obviously decided against it. “Shut up.” 

Will would often tell Max everything, he’d never hide things from her. This time felt strangely different, though, like he didn’t  _ want  _ to tell her everything. He wanted to keep it to himself because the things he was feeling were things he didn’t want to feel. Clearly, Max didn’t like that things were changing, and Will wasn’t telling her everything. But she was doing the exact same thing, there were a lot of things that Will didn’t know about Max, so he was only returning the favour, really. 

Will sighed, and then after looking at the time on the clock on the wall, stood from his position on the chair, pulling up his socks that had fallen down within the past ten minutes. “We better get ready, then.” 

“Is your  _ fella _ coming?” Max smirked, and then uncrossed her legs before jumping down from the kitchen counter. Will didn’t have the effort to argue with her, so he just glared as he pushed his chair neatly under the table. Not that Joyce would care if it was out of place, she probably wouldn’t even notice - but Will felt better for doing it.

“I told him to meet us here at seven if he wants to come, so I guess we’ll find out then.” 

Will had started to walk down the hall to find his planned costume in the bedroom when Max began yelling after him. “So he  _ is  _ your fella, then?” He could practically see her smirk, despite being faced the other way.

“Shut the fuck up and get ready.” 

Will shut his bedroom door and leant against it, letting out an exhausted sigh. 

 

_ This party better be fucking spectacular.  _

 

-

 

_ Monday, October 31st, 1988. 7:06pm. _

 

Will sat on his porch steps with Max, and El who had arrived a short time ago to make their way to the party together. Will was completely dressed and ready in his Halloween costume, and if was honest with himself, he’d say the outfit looked pretty ordinary, but anyone who was familiar with  _ Back to the Future  _ would be able to recognise it almost instantly. He spent a good few hours trying to find the perfect body warmer, and when he did he had to refrain from screaming in the middle of the store. His first thought being -  _ Mike is gonna love this.  _

Well, Mike would  _ probably  _ love it if he was actually there. Now nearing on seven whole minutes late, Will was starting to think he may not show up at all. He did seem skeptical about the whole thing, so he would completely understand if he didn’t want to go; but wouldn’t he at least let him know that he wasn’t? Mike wasn’t the type of person to just not show up without telling anyone. Will then thought, he could simply be running late, a few minutes is nothing. Max was usually at least half an hour late whenever they planned to do something together, it was totally and completely normal to not arrive exactly on time. Will was just one of those people who had to get somewhere right on the specified time, or at least a few minutes early.

 

_ Maybe he’s just stressing out about it. _

_ Maybe he’s all ready and he’s been fine up until this moment and now he’s freaking out. _

_ He’ll be fine. He’s fine. Whether he wants to come or not.  _

_ Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Will.  _

 

“If he’s not here in the next ten minutes, we’re leaving.” Max announced, and Will looked over his shoulder to where both girls were seated behind him on a higher step. Max was dressed in all black: leather jacket, ripped jeans, ripped band t-shirt, excessive black eyeliner and lipstick - and her red hair was back combed dramatically so it went in every direction possible. She told Will it was supposed to just be some sort of  _ crazy punk look _ . It did work, of course. She made almost anything work. Sat next to her, El had her head rested on Max’s shoulder. Almost as a complete polar opposite, she was dressed as a pink lady from the movie  _ Grease.  _ She made it work, too. They looked like they were going as a couple. 

Will shoved Max’s knee lightly. “He’ll be here. Just wait.” 

When Will turned back around, he didn’t see Max and El exchange a look between them. It was good that he didn’t, because he’d probably be willing to fight one of them right there and then. 

About five minutes passed, Will hugging himself to try and ignore the cold, whilst also ignoring the hushed discussions going on between the two girls seated behind him. Tomorrow, it would be November, and yet another month of Will’s last year in high school would have passed. That terrified him, because he had no idea what was going to happen next. He hated not knowing, not having a plan - and at this point he felt completely clueless. Especially since Mike’s arrival, it was nice to have that kind of change, but a lot of the things he and Mike did were spontaneous and random and decided a mere few minutes before they actually did them. Mostly places they’d go to, Mike liked it when Will would just drive around with him in the passenger seat - he’d ask him where he wanted to go and he’d just say:  _ anywhere.  _ It was that unpredictability with Mike, that not-knowing - that scared him to death. But it also made him feel alive. 

Eventually, to his relief, Will was right about what he said. Mike did show up. Only a few moments later he appeared, almost out of the darkness like a character in a movie, and he could be seen making his way up the driveway with long strides and his head held down. Will almost had all of the air knocked out of his lungs when he realised how he was dressed. He couldn’t see all that clearly, but he knew that combination of clothes like the back of his own hand.

As he walked closer, he looked up and had a smirk on his face when he caught Will’s eye, like he didn’t have an ounce of anxiety in his body. Which, of course, was completely unrealistic - but Will knew it was because of him. He hated knowing that, because it was only as soon as he saw Will waiting there that his facial expression completely changed. Hands in his pockets, hair blowing in the wind, and Will suddenly felt like things were happening in slow motion. 

Will widened his eyes at Mike’s Halloween costume. “Oh my fuck, Mike! You didn’t…”

“I did.” He nodded, and looked down at himself. He then looked back up at Will. “Look at you, though! There he is, Mr Marty Mcfly!” His eyes were wide and bright, hands gesturing as if to appreciate the boy in front of him, who was on the verge of breaking out into an uncontrollable blush. He looked awestruck, in a way. “God, William, you really do know how to make a body warmer work.” 

 

_ Has he been drinking already?  _

_ God, this is gonna be a long night. _

 

Will could practically feel the intrigued looks of Max and El burning through the back of his skull as he stood to greet Mike, and it was all the more overwhelming when he was suddenly so close. “Uh yeah, I- Well, you, though! I told you you’d make a good Bender.” 

Mike dramatically bowed, his curls falling forward and then bouncing back up, a charming smile on his face. Will took a few moments to process what he was seeing in front of him, and he couldn’t believe that out of all of the ideas he’d ever had - this was by far the best. The short sleeved red plaid shirt over a long sleeved plain white one, the worn down denim jacket, the long coat that finished half way down his long legs, the red scarf, and  _ god… the fucking fingerless gloves.  _

Will would be lying if he said he didn’t feel like melting right where he stood. 

He looked like some kind of indie rock song, like the ones Jonathan would show Will and put onto random mixtapes for him. The kind of songs he didn’t quite know all of the words to, or the ones he didn’t quite understand - but he would listen to them over and over again and completely take in all of the different layers of music as he nodded his head to the beat. Mike would be the kind of song that Will would want to keep with him constantly, on its own little tape with its own little doodles of the night sky and everything that made Will feel alive. 

He was beginning to realise that Mike was like a lot of the little things that he appreciated in the hidden corners of the universe that was falling apart. Mike was the gap of golden sunlight that poured through the gap Will’s curtains when the sun was beginning to set. Mike was the moments of peaceful silence between the songs on Will’s favourite mixtapes. He was the laughs shared between lovers and every butterfly in Will’s stomach. Mike was his own story. He was a story Will wanted to read, to tell… and to share. But, it wasn’t as simple as that. There was still that darkness that he couldn’t see past, that sinking feeling when he realised that Mike wasn’t okay. That he would probably never be okay, and Will wasn’t sure how much he could do about it. 

Mike looked down at his own costume and examined it, like he hadn’t done so a hundred times already. “I do?” His confidence seemed to falter for a moment and he glanced back at Will with an unsure expression.

“What the fuck, of course.” Will spoke dramatically, and stared at Mike with completely no shame for a few moments longer. “Wow I- You look… I’m- you look incredible.” 

“Are you sure I don’t look stupid?” Mike pulled a briefly panicked expression, and after a few moments of silence from Will - “I look stupid.”

“No! No, you look wonderful. Like jesus fuck, I could melt down this drain right now you look that good, and—”

“Will! Please, I—”

“No, I’m not gonna shut up, because listen here Michael Wheeler, you look fucking gorgeous dressed like that. I mean, not that you don’t all the time, but  _ god _ look at you now.”

Will reveled in the fact that Mike was a blushing mess, and the fact that he had the power to do that made him want to burst into a blush himself. Eventually, Max appeared at Will’s side and ruffled the top of his hair. “Alright, Will. Let’s go before you completely stop functioning and we can’t go anywhere.” 

“Right, yeah. Of course.” Will shook his head, and then Max started to walk towards the car and on her way past Mike she patted him on the shoulder twice. El shortly followed after her, smiling at Mike and then having to jog slightly to catch up with her punk counterpart. 

Will didn’t move for a few moments, feeling like he would be stuck in this position in front of his house forever. He tried not to look at Mike, worrying that he’d blurt out something stupid all over again. Unfortunately the universe wasn’t on his side, and Mike ducked his head to try and catch Will’s eye, who looked like he was in a daze. 

“Shall we, William?” Mike nudged Will’s shoulder with his fist and when he swayed sideways slightly, he blinked an abnormal amount of times and nodded; perhaps a little too enthusiastically. 

“Yeah. Yes, we shall.” Will awkwardly wiped his hands on his jeans, and then stepped forward so he was next to Mike who was facing the other direction. He cleared his throat as he stuck out his elbow, and Mike appeared to be holding in laughter. 

He turned and put his arm through the gap Will had left for him, and the two of them began walking in unison with linked arms - perhaps wishing it was their hands that were linked instead. 

Mike ducked his head down so he could speak close enough to Will’s ear. “Did you get my note?” The whisper sent a wave of chills down his spine. 

 

_ Of course I got the damn note. _

_ I’ve only read over it in your voice, like, a thousand times. _

 

“I did. You don’t have to apologize for showing up by the way, it’s not-”

“Oh, but William, I do.” Mike sighed, and Will couldn’t stop thinking about how their arms were touching as they walked and the gravel crunched under their shoes. “I can’t just bring my chaos to your doorstep and expect you to deal with it.” 

“I don’t mind your chaos.” Will shrugged, noticing that Max and El had already gotten into the back of his car. He nervously watched them to see if they would look in their direction, but they seemed far too engrossed in a conversation to care - he tried not to sigh with relief. 

Mike shook his head. “I do.” He glanced at Will for a few moments before clearing his throat. “Anyway, you gotta tell me how you manage to look so adorable when you’re sleeping. I think my poor heart almost exploded.” 

Will almost choked on his own breath, he was almost certain Mike had been drinking  _ something  _ already. He could’ve been wrong, though. He could’ve just been having a good day. “I- you- shut up. Stop watching me sleep, you weirdo.” 

“But I can’t resist when you look like a little sleeping beauty.”

Will attempted to ignore the comment. “Wait- how long were you watching me?”

Mike let out a laugh at Will’s sudden concern. “Only a few minutes. Calm yourself, Byers, I’m not a complete freak.” 

Will glared at him and then rolled his eyes. “That’s surely comforting.” 

He noted how their usual playful bantering and turned extremely flirty in a matter of minutes. Will continued to tell himself that it wasn’t flirting at all, and that friends always acted like that around each other. They totally blushed around them all the time, got weird feelings in the pit of their stomach and felt like they could smile for years. Yeah, that was totally all friendship stuff. Will couldn’t help but imagine Mike sat perched on the coffee table in front of the sofa in his living room, writing a note down in his notebook and tearing the page out. He’d look at Will for a few extended moments, smile to himself, and then place the note in Will’s bedroom before making a swift exit. 

By this point, Will was stood in front of his car door ready to get inside, and Mike was stood on the other side; looking at Will over the top of the shiny maroon surface roof. Will returned the look, pulled the door handle and before he could get in - Mike Wheeler did something that Will would never imagine him doing. 

He winked at him.

Naturally, Will almost melted into the asphalt as Mike snickered to himself and opened the passenger door before throwing himself into the seat and shutting the door behind him. Will could already hear him leafing through the different cassette tapes, and he realised he must’ve been stood there for too long - so he simply blinked and shook his head, heart rate picking up in speed - and finally got into the car himself. 

He was sure Mike must’ve had something to drink before getting there, because he seemed different. Sober Mike Wheeler would never wink at anyone, unless he had something in his eye. As Will drove to Jennifer Hayes’s house, he felt that sinking feeling in his stomach - like that warning before a storm. He knew what he was going to feel, and there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop it. 

By the end of the night he would be done for. 

 

-

 

Will had been to better parties, but he had also been to worse. This was your typical house party, people dotted everywhere, either dancing or making out (or has Will liked to call it,  _ heterosexual nonsense _ ) but everyone seemed to be having a decent enough time. Which was great, because it would be the last high school Halloween party they would all go to. Upon getting there, they found Dustin and Lucas who were, as always, dressed as Star Wars characters. Which they all completely expected, but they seemed to make it work anyway. 

Will didn’t see them much, but they all agreed to meet back at Will’s car outside at  _ 12:30am _ \- so they could make it back to Will’s and they’d all be spending the night, which meant that Will was the one who was staying sober, which he didn’t really mind. Mike had been staying pretty close to Will, looking like he might explode if someone he didn’t know got too close to him. He was gripping his red solo cup like it would keep him grounded, and whenever someone would compliment him on his costume, he would awkwardly thank them and avoid eye contact at all costs. 

Things were going so well, they were going  _ great _ . No one had said anything to Will, no one had made a stupid comment to set him off - because that's what usually happened. Everyone knew his secret, well, it was hardly a secret anymore. He didn’t mind it not being a secret. But someone  _ always  _ had to say something. Someone  _ always  _ had to go and open their mouth. That night it was some random senior that Will didn’t know very well, he was pretty sure he was on the basketball team. Thankfully, Mike had gone to the bathroom at this point - well, that’s what he told Will. 

“I hear you’ve recruited another queer, is that true, Byers?” 

Will turned at the sound of the obnoxious voice, and saw this overly-muscly guy stood next to him, scooping the alcoholic punch into his red cup. He was just wearing his basketball gear, and Will wanted to scoff. That didn’t even count as a halloween costume. He looked like one of those rich kids, like those ones who could get away with saying pretty much anything and everything. The ones who were always believed over anyone else. Maybe even idolised. 

Will remained calm. He didn’t want to let this get to him, but the difference was - he was talking about Mike. He could take as much shit about himself as possible, but once people started saying stuff about his friends - especially Mike - that was when it got to him. “Excuse me?” 

“You know, another queer. That weird lookin’ lanky one.” 

Will frowned. “I’m sorry, are you trying to be funny?” 

“Not trying to be funny, dude. Just wondering how life’s going for you and your new fag friend.”  The guy took a sip from his drink and raised both eyebrows at Will, who was clearly unimpressed

Will sucked in a harsh breath and then let out a sigh. “I’ll only ask you nicely once. Leave me and my friends the fuck alone, and  _ never  _ say that word again.” 

“You seem  _ super  _ protective, dude. Is that freak your boyfriend or something? You’d make quite the pair. Shame what happened to the other guy though, serves him right for being a fuckin’-” 

That was when Will punched him square in the face. 

He didn’t remember much, he just remembered his throat hurt from yelling so much. He must’ve got a punch back, too, because his ears were ringing and everything appeared to be blurry. He remembered everyone crowding around looking at him, cheering and shouting. He remembered Max’s arms around his torso trying to pull him away, her voice repeatedly yelling  _ hey, that’s enough!  _ Over and over and over again. The guy eventually disappeared into the crowd, being pulled back by everyone other than Will’s friends. 

Will remembered some things about this fight, but most importantly - he remembered seeing Mike’s face. He remembered seeing him in the doorway of one of the rooms, just catching the end of all the fuss with wide eyes. And the weird thing was, Will saw Troy Harrington slipping out the door behind him. 

He didn’t think much of it at the time. 

“I’m fine, guys. Honestly.” Will reassured Max and El who were fussing over him, making sure he was okay, Dustin and Lucas were there as well and they looked completely and utterly fed up. 

El held the side of Will’s face and ran a thumb underneath his eye. “He hit you pretty hard, Will.” 

“It doesn’t hurt.” 

Dustin clapped Will on the shoulder. “Well, it shall hurt soon enough, William dearest. You did good.” 

Max glared at him. “Don’t encourage him.” 

“To be fair, the guy deserved it.” Lucas added, and Will gave him a weak smile as everyone nodded in agreement. Eventually they all found themselves in the positions they were at earlier on after everything calmed down, and surprisingly, Will felt pretty proud of himself. His mind didn’t linger on the things the guy said, Will could only remember the feeling of hitting him right in the face, and he looked at his reddened knuckles with a smile. 

Mike was standing next to him again, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t ask anything. Will was glad that he didn’t. He still seemed a bit uneasy, but as he drank more, though, Will noticed him becoming more relaxed - which was great. He wouldn’t want Mike to feel on edge the whole time, and if he asked Will to leave with him he’d most definitely leave the others behind. They were stood in the kitchen, Max sat on the counter again and El leaning against it. Dustin and Lucas were off joining in on all of the party games they possibly could before something would kick off again. Will was simply keeping an eye on them all, with Mike next to him, staring at the liquid in his cup whilst tapping his fingers to the beat of  _ Girls On Film _ on the side of it. It was then that Will realised his nails were painted black. 

He looked out of focus, like a blurry image where everything sort of just blends together. Like he would just fade away and become a part of the background. He looked like he wanted to fade away more than anything. He looked a bit like he did that day at the quarry - wishing for the ground to eat him alive; and at some point, about five minutes later, Mike asked Will if they could go and stand outside for a few moments. Will happily agreed, an easy smile on his face, and the both of them escaped through the side door. Will turned and caught Max’s confused gaze, and he simply shrugged before following the boy out to the side of the house. No one was there, just a wall, a streetlight and some muffled voices. Also the cold. It was very,  _ very  _ cold. 

“It’s fucking freezing out here.” Will breathed out shakily, as if it was going to provide him with a lifeline of heat somehow. He pulled the red body warmer around him tighter, balancing on one foot and then the other. He found himself wishing that the halloween costume he had selected had been something more suited for the icy conditions. After all, it was about to turn November. Or was it already November? What time was it? It could be past midnight for all he knew. But Will let himself suffer through the cold, of course; because he was only trying to make Mike happy. “Can you hurry up?” 

“Don’t rush me, William.” Mike shook his head whilst looking right at Will. He let his dark eyes linger there for a moment before he tore them away, making it clear that he didn’t want to look too long. Like he felt as if looking for too long would make Will leave or vanish into thin air. 

He was leant against the wall, one foot propped up, stood in a way that was far too casual for the Mike Wheeler everyone knew. Will was aware the alcohol was to blame, because Mike was more relaxed than he had ever seen him. He had one hand shoved into the pocket of his long overcoat, whilst the other hung at his side with his half finished cigarette dangling between two fingers. Will was jealous. He was wearing a long sleeved shirt, a plaid shirt, a denim jacket  _ and  _ the longest and biggest overcoat he had ever seen. He wondered how warm he was. He wondered if it would burn if he touched his face. 

“You’re staring.” Mike commented, not looking in Will’s direction. Will awkwardly looked away for a few moments, wishing Mike would stop pointing out things like that. He was just admiring his costume, that was all. When Will turned back to look at Mike again, he was looking right at him, breathing out a mouthful of smoke. 

Will shoved his hands into his pockets, and kicked at a loose piece of gravel on the floor. “I didn’t know you smoked.” 

“I don’t.” Mike shrugged, and then sniffled. His nose was pink, Will could still see his freckles in the awful lighting. 

“Right.” Will nodded sceptically. “Then why are you doing it now?” 

Mike shrugged again. “I really hate answering questions with another question but, why not?” The way he spoke sounded somewhat philosophical as he waved around his hand to emphasise what he was saying, leaving a trail of smoke wherever he decided. Will thought it was strange how there was a sense of power in everything, even things as small as cigarette smoke - Mike could make it do what he wanted it to. It was the same for most things in the world, and sometimes the pure idea of it seems great, but if you give power to the wrong people - things could fall apart.

 

_ Power is cruel, but what are we to do without it? _

 

“Imminent death, I suppose.” Will shrugged, but then he found himself thinking that maybe he should’ve sounded a little more certain in the words that came tumbling out of his mouth. He knew he was right, but he also knew that death didn’t scare everyone. 

Mike looked at him curiously for what felt like a very long time, and it was ever so slightly different to how he would look at Will when he didn’t have any alcohol in his system. Will noticed it, it was like he wasn’t afraid of looking right at him, when he would usually avert his eyes when a subject like this came up. 

Mike took another drag from the burning cigarette, which looked as if it was having every bit of life extracted from it. “Death is always imminent, Will.” 

“Does that not scare you?”

Mike said a lot of things that scared Will, and this had to be the most terrifying. The most bone chilling, and worrying thing. Something too ambiguous, too vague to even understand. “Never has, never will.” 

The silence began, and Will had some time to think. He was aware certain things scared some people and other things didn’t, but he always assumed that pretty much anyone and everyone feared death. Clearly, he was wrong - because death didn’t seem to scare Mike at all - and that was the terrifying thing. Will had always thought that fear of death keeps you alive, but if you don’t fear death… then do you even try? Perhaps you aren’t scared of dying, but you continue to live because you just  _ might as well  _ or maybe you’ve found your reason. Will lived for all of the little things, like seeing his mom smile and the smell of breakfast being cooked in the morning, or bonding over music with his brother. He lived to create art, to see his friends smile, to make the most of everything he had; and more recently (although he hated to admit it) he lived for Mike. Will wondered if Mike had a list of reasons, of little things he appreciated. He wondered if he’d be on that list. 

Despite all these things that were worth living for, there was something off. Something he didn’t quite understand. He was aware the universe was full of an unreadable amount of unanswered questions - questions that could never be answered. He hated that, he hated how vague his life seemed, and everyone else’s around him. Existence was almost blurred and sometimes he’d lose himself in the act of being alive and being somewhere else; somewhere that was far away from everything he knew and was familiar with. The question that played on his mind was not exactly  _ what  _ but rather  _ why.  _

 

_ Why do I exist? What is the point in existing? _

 

It was perhaps one of the harshest questions he would ask himself but he would ask it all the time, at least a few times every day— as soon as he woke up, and as soon as he went to sleep, especially the dreams. A wide expanse of nothing and everything all at once would come crashing into his brain like a broken dam and yet, there would never be an answer. There would never be an answer to this question because we cannot possibly know if we do in fact have a purpose, or if we are just here by chance. 

And that was a whole other question within itself. 

The silence ended with a quizzical glance and an exhaled breath of smoke glowing orange from the nearby streetlight - he looked too real and it was then Will had to remind himself that this boy stood in front of him - looking the way he did - wasn’t a figment of his imagination. “What was that about back there?” 

Will knew he was going to ask it at some point, he just wished it had been later on. Maybe at a time later in the night where he would be too drunk to remember it - but then again, Will didn’t have to tell him anything. He didn’t have to tell him the truth, an easy lie, making something up, something that wasn’t as bad as the truth. Lying should be easy, but for Will, it wasn’t. Especially to Mike. He couldn’t bear lying to his face, and he couldn’t hide it from him forever; no matter how much he wanted to. 

Will sighed, turning so his back was against the brick wall behind them, so he could avoid looking into the eyes that were breaking him down. “I don’t really wanna talk about it.” 

He could see Mike nodding out of the corner of his eye. “That’s okay,” he sniffled. “If you’re sure.” 

That was when Will’s chest started to ache, because he realised that he didn’t deserve someone like Mike - someone so understanding and patient, someone he would like to love if things weren’t the way that they were. Maybe, just maybe, things would fall into place sometime in the future - but Will was aware he had a habit of fucking things up. 

He wanted to talk to Mike about it more than anything, he wanted to tell him everything and let it pour out in the way that it should; but he couldn’t find the right words. He wasn’t sure he ever would. He debated speaking up again for a while, but the silence swallowed them again. 

The thoughts on both of their minds went unsaid.

“Just-” Will started after a few more moments of silence. Well,  _ almost  _ silence - apart from the muffled sound of  _ I Hate Myself For Loving You  _ being played inside the house where the party was still going on. “Just don’t worry about it, okay?” He didn’t look at Mike, he just kept his eyes fixed on his shoes. He felt him looking right at him when he spoke up again, and he wanted nothing more than a giant hole to open in the floor so he could fall through it. “I don’t want you to worry about it.” 

“William.” Mike sighed, and Will heard the sound of him pushing himself off the wall and slow footsteps in his direction. “When someone tells you not to worry about it,” He was almost whispering, and Will knew he was stood just inches away, looking down with his head ducked and his hands in his pockets. “You usually worry about it more than you were in the first place.”

Will looked up, after a fair amount of deliberation, and met Mike’s watchful gaze. “Well, you don’t need to worry about me.” 

“I think this calls for a deal.” 

“What?”

“I won’t worry about you, if you stop worrying about me.” Mike’s eyebrow was raised, and Will suddenly noticed that his hand was rested against the wall behind his head. He almost choked on his breath. 

 

_ I hate you, Mike Wheeler.  _

_ I fucking hate you. _

_ I hate you and your stupid pretty face and your kind voice and your creative mind and-  _

 

“What if I’m not worrying about you?” Will attempted to stand up straighter, but if he did then he would be too close to Mike’s face - so he stayed where he was. 

Mike shrugged. “Fair enough. I wouldn’t give two shits about me either.” He looked to the door where the two of them had come outside, and when he saw a cluster or drunken teenagers stumbling out, he immediately leant back and crossed his arms over his chest. “But, if I could smell emotions… you’d reek of concern. Like, badly.” 

“Okay, so what? Maybe I do worry.” Will shrugged, and when a silence longer than he had hoped followed, he spoke up again in a soft voice. He was quiet, almost like he didn’t want Mike to hear him at all. “It’s only because I care about you.” 

Mike looked at Will with some sort of broken smile, and Will wasn’t sure if he had tears in his eyes or if it was just the light - but is heart was slowly breaking at what he was seeing. He was quiet, like he was processing everything Will had ever said to him, and then he slowly shook his head whilst looking down towards the floor. “You shouldn’t.” 

 

_ Why shouldn’t I care about you, Mike? _

_ I can’t stop caring about you. _

_ I can’t stop caring about you because I think you’re the person I like most on the entire earth right now.  _

_ I like you, Mike Wheeler. _

_ I like you really fucking badly.  _

 

When Will hadn’t spoken for a few moments, Mike cleared his throat after leaning back against the wall where he previously was. “Does all that shit get to you? Like, people saying those things that they say.”

It was so incredibly vague, but Will knew exactly what he meant. “Of course it does.” 

“Does it get better?” 

Will wanted to burst into tears at the sound of his voice, he seemed so small and vulnerable. Will knew he wasn’t, but he sounded like he wanted to know for reassurance. Like he wanted to know how long  _ he  _ would have to put up with it before things started to get better. 

“Eventually.” Will nodded. “But there’s always gonna be that idiot in the back of the crowd, or maybe even multiple idiots. I don’t think that will ever change. The important thing is, you’ve gotta learn not to care. You’ve gotta learn to be proud of who you are - things still get to you from time to time, but everything turns out okay.” 

Mike nodded thoughtfully, and Will looked at his freckles dotted across his cheeks. “I guess-” He started, but then thought over his words for a few moments. “I guess it’s easier when you find someone like you. So you can go through that shit together.” 

Will met Mike’s gaze, and suddenly the boy seemed less blurry than before. 

“Yeah,” He nodded. “Yeah, it really is.” 

 

-

 

After that, Mike had more to drink, and he was coming out with all sorts of random things. Clinging to Will’s side as they all walked towards the car -  _ Will, Will! Did you know that there are these birds, I don’t know what they’re called but right- listen to this… When their mate dies the other one dies like a day after. How sad is that? We’re pretty close, Will. Do you think if we were those birds, and I died, you’d die a day after me? I’d die a day after you.  _

In the car passenger seat, whilst the other four sat squished in the back like sardines -  _ Will, did you know I painted my nails black, right? I don’t think I told you. Anyway, I painted my nails black and I know Bender didn’t do that but I thought that he  _ should _ have done that. It would’ve made the whole movie so much better. I thought you’d like them, too, Will. Do you like them? Do you guys like them, too? _

And finally, in Will’s bedroom, after Will had decided that he should stay in his bed again to avoid keeping everyone else awake, who had set up camp in the living room -  _ I really think I’m doing better, Will. My William. I’m getting better. I’m not really angry anymore. Well, I am, but I’m not angry in front of you. Shelley used to tell me I needed to control my anger, and I needed to find someone to calm me down. I think that’s you, Will. Because I’m never angry around you. Everything goes to shit when I’m angry, that’s what happened last time.  _

Will replied very minimally to all of these ramblings, because he knew Mike was just having a hyperactive half an hour and he needed to come down from it. Which he did, eventually, after he’d peeled off his coat and his denim jacket, leaving himself in the red plaid shirt and the white shirt. Will took his shoes off and also the fingerless gloves, and placed them neatly near his pile of things on the floor. Will had a lot of time to think, and he’d need more time to think about  _ everything  _ Mike had said, because it surely made his head hurt. 

 

_ Why was he rambling about being angry so much? _

_ What does ‘last time’ mean? _

 

Will was about to leave the room and join the others, because he was sure he would pass out in a matter of seconds and he didn’t want to fall down the hole he was very surely on the edge of. Two more minutes in that room, and he knew he’d be falling down the abyss. He knew it would take one thing to push him completely off the edge. He got so close to the door,  _ so  _ close. But then he spoke. 

“Hold my hand.” Mike sighed, outstretching his hand to Will’s turned back.

Will breathed out slowly and then realised he would  _ have  _ to turn around, when he did he perched himself on the side of his bed with some sort of anxiety bubbling in his chest, flickering on and off like a light bulb on its last legs. He didn’t know what this feeling was, he didn’t like it.

 

_ You know exactly what it is, Will. You just don’t want to admit it. _

 

Mike layed there in Will’s bed, half under the spaceship themed covers that Will had refused to let go of, despite him being mere months away from adulthood. Mike looked so small enveloped in them, which was surprising, but possible. His outstretched hand said he wanted Will, he wanted to hold onto him to keep himself grounded; but his teary eyes said something else. They looked at Will with an unspoken kind of desperation laced with gratitude, but they were also longing and  _ loving _ . 

His eyes said they needed him, and they wanted him to stay. 

Will slowly reached forward and took Mike’s hand, holding it in between both of his own. Mike smiled at him when he did, and Will felt as if his chest was going to explode.

“You made me feel really good about myself today, Will.” Mike leant his head to the side, and Will’s heart ached at the fact that it was  _ his  _ pillow. 

“I did.”

“Mhmm.” Mike nodded, eyes drooping shut. Will would not pass up on an offer to cuddle him right there and then. “You made me believe it, and usually no one is ever powerful enough to do that.” 

“You deserve to believe it, you dummy.” 

“Well, thank you.” Mike mumbled, and forced his eyes open so he could look at Will as much as he possibly could. “As of today- well, as of the day we met - my favourite person in the universe is you, William Byers.” 

“And you are mine too, Michael Wheeler.”

Eventually, Mike had swiftly fallen asleep with the comfort of Will by his side, the weight where he sat on the bed reminding him he was there. His smell surrounding him like he was trapped, but in the best way. Will didn’t let go of Mike’s hand, he felt like he couldn’t due to his specific request to hold it. So he held it, for a little while longer. As the sound of Mike’s sleepy breaths graced Will’s ears, he brought his hand up to his lips and left a lingering kiss there, just along his pale knuckles; warmth balancing cold.

Will brought the hand down to his chest and he held it there for a moment, letting his thumb run across the pale skin. His breathing began to sync with Mike’s, and so did his heartbeat, and suddenly they were  _ one _ . Something clicked, ever so slightly, and Will was sure he was starting to see the stars. It was at that moment he realised exactly how he felt for him. 

 

_ I am so fucked.  _


	8. who are you, really?

Will Byers woke up on his bedroom floor, lying in a mound of pillows and blankets that he was sure were laid out neatly when he went to sleep the night previously. He didn’t remember falling asleep there, and in all honesty, he didn’t remember much from the Halloween party, or what happened afterwards. He remembered fragments, of course… bits and pieces; but ultimately everything was a blur. His back ached uncomfortably in a number of places, so he pushed himself up into a sitting position with the palms of his hands - shortly after, realising the knuckles on his right hand caused a splitting pain when he put pressure on them, he winced and brought his hand to his chest. He curiously examined his knuckles with tired eyes, to find them purple and red with bruises. 

 

_ So… who was the lucky sucker who got punched last night? _

 

He simply sighed and pushed the thought from his mind with a small smile to himself, only caring that he must’ve hit whoever it was  _ pretty fucking hard.  _ Besides, he had other questions that needed to be answered, such as; why was his bed empty and perfectly made? It didn’t take him long to answer this question, because the only person Will knew he’d let use his bed, was Mike. Despite knowing his other friends for years longer, he wouldn’t let them use his bed when they needed it, oh no… only Mike was allowed to do that. If anyone else needed a place to sleep there was a perfectly comfortable sofa available. Mike, on the other hand… Will would sleep on the floor for the rest of his life if it meant that Mike was comfortable, and as much as Will tried to tell himself that wasn’t true, there he was - back pains and all - sitting in his makeshift bed on his own bedroom floor. 

The other completely obvious factor that lead Will to believe that Mike was the one who slept in his bed was the fact that it was perfectly made, even better than Will or even  _ his mom  _ would ever make it. Tucked in corners and fluffed up pillows, it was like when you first got to a hotel and you had to pull everything out so you could comfortably get inside the bed. He knew it was Mike who did that, because he remembered finding his bed like this with the note left on top of the pillow,  _ that god damn note,  _ the night he spontaneously stayed over after his so-called adventures in the woods. He didn’t understand why Mike felt the need to clean up behind himself so much, it was like he didn’t want to leave any trace of him behind - but the very act of cleaning everything up was just so  _ Mike.  _

Will found himself wishing that Mike would just sleep in a little longer one day, just so he could wake up to see him sleeping peacefully; with his face pressed against the pillow and his hair a darkened mess around his head. He wanted to hear the sound of his voice in the morning. Yeah. That’d be nice.  _ Mike Wheeler’s morning voice and a cup of coffee, please. _ Of course, Will wanted to slap himself at the thought, and he almost did. He felt those fragments of memories coming back to him from the night before and he felt some sort of weight on his shoulders that told him something he particularly didn’t want to know. 

Pushing the thought of Mike aside, which had become somewhat difficult in the recent weeks, Will finally gathered enough strength to push himself up off the floor and drag himself towards the door of his bedroom. His eyes caught his reflection in the mirror on his way out - his hair wasn’t messy, he was thankful that it was the type of hair to just fall back into place after sleeping or being outside in the wind. He stopped in front of his closed door for a few minutes, realising that Mike must’ve shut it behind him to let him sleep in a little longer, and listened to the voices that were coming from the kitchen. His ears were filled with the muffled sound of laughter, and he could just about pin down the sound of each of his friends - not mike, though… Will hadn’t heard him laugh for a while. 

He looked at the clock that was on his bedside table -  _ 7:28am  _ \- and wondered how everyone else was awake so early. Sure, it was a school day, but he didn’t think any of them would actually get up. Halloween on a Monday night didn’t stop anyone from partying, but they would most probably regret it in the morning and pretend they were sick to get the day off school. Somehow, the sounds he heard from the kitchen seemed far too energetic for a group of teenagers that should have hangovers. Will was the one who didn’t have much to drink, and he was the one who stayed in bed for the longest.

 

_ Of course.  _

 

_ It’s always me. _

 

He pushed the door open with a creak and tiptoed down the hallway towards the kitchen, his socked feet making minimal noise so he went unnoticed. The orange morning light was pouring into the kitchen through the partially open curtains and across the dining table where Max, El, Lucas and Dustin were all sat around with various hot drinks in matching ceramic mugs clutched between their hands or simply left on the table top. None of them had yet gotten dressed, each one was in their nightwear and fluffy socks, and they seemed fully engrossed in a conversation that Will didn’t know the context to. None of them had noticed Will standing there yet, so he crossed his arms and leant against the wall. 

He then caught sight of his mother, who was leaning against the countertop with her cup of coffee in between her palms, she was leaning back and looking at the stove - which was what Mike was leant over. He stood tall, clad in his black sweater that he must’ve brought to change into, his back arched as he held the handle of a pan and a spatula in the other. Will tilted his head slightly so he could lean it against the wall, and saw how the curls ended at the back of Mike’s neck. Well, they didn’t particularly end, since his hair had grown, the back of his neck couldn’t really be seen at all - only if he leaned forward enough. 

He was talking to Joyce, Will couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the sight of it was heartwarming enough. If Mike turned his head enough to face her, Will could see the small smile that was tugging at the corner of his lips - he couldn’t help but smile to himself. He thought back to when Mike wouldn’t even interact with her, and now they looked like they’d known each other for years. 

“Do my eyes deceive me or do I see Michael Wheeler cooking _breakfast_ in my kitchen?” Will made his presence known by speaking up after surveying the room for far too long, and suddenly everyone turned their heads to look at him. 

Mike turned and caught Will’s eye for a few seconds, giving him some sort of faded smile. “Morning, William.” 

Will didn’t have a chance to look at the expression on his face any longer, because he had already turned his attention back to the stove. It was like he didn’t want Will to see his face at all, shying away… embarrassed? No, surely not. Why would he be embarrassed? His face was probably just warm from the cooking. Yeah, that made sense. Will then found himself wondering if Mike remembered the night before, because suddenly the memory of it all came toppling down on Will like a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped all over him. 

He looked down at his hands, and they felt strange with the memory of holding another in between them. He clasped his hands together as if it was going to somehow erase that moment from history, but it remained; and it became clearer by the second. 

 

_ Hold my hand.  _

 

He wished he didn’t. 

But he had to, didn’t he? That was the very joy that came with being Will Byers - having to do what someone asked of you, if it made them happy. He was never good at saying no, and as it turns out, he was absolutely awful at saying no to Mike Wheeler. He couldn’t resist those eyes, the eyes that didn’t often look directly at you, but when they did it filled you up with some kind of unreadable emotion that just made you want to give everything to the person behind them. They made you want to know them, and to understand them - yet they were completely impossible to read; and despite it all, Will seemed to know exactly what he had to do and when, just to make Mike feel okay. 

Of course, he couldn’t be sure that it was working at all, he had no idea whatsoever. But  _ my favourite person in the universe is you, William Byers  _ was pretty convincing. 

Will didn’t have time to think over Mike’s words that he suddenly remembered, because all of a sudden his mother was walking towards him with a white mug of hot coffee in between her hands. “I think you’ll find it’s  _ my  _ kitchen, honey.” She gave Will a comforting smile, before handing him the mug - which Will received on autopilot - and ruffled his hair with her right hand. “Drink that before it gets cold, I’ve gotta get to work.”

Will blinked, and then looked down at the dark liquid that he was just handed. “Uh- yeah. ‘Course.” He adjusted his hair that his mother had messed up with his free hand. “Thanks.” 

She was just about to turn around and go on her way, but she did a double take and squinted her eyes at her son as if she knew something he didn’t. “Is something bothering you, baby?” 

“What? No! I’m just… I’m tired.” Will shrugged, wondering what on earth his mother could think would be bothering him. At that moment, a lot of things could’ve been bothering Will, but he wasn’t particularly  _ thinking  _ about them. “I’m just tired.” 

“Says the one who didn’t drink.” Max piped up, or rather grumbled, from her seated position at the dining table. Will saw that her head was heavily resting on her arm that was supporting it, her eyes half closed and her hair an absolute mess from the way she had styled it the night before. She looked like some sort of angry lion, although she looked sleepy she would be ready to attack if anyone said anything to get on her nerves. 

“Shut up, Max.” Will argued in the usual tone he would use when he and Max would have petty disputes, which was almost all the time. “I had to take care of you all, so I might as well have been.”

She opened and closed her mouth as if she were about to retort with a witty comment, even raising her pointer finger like she was going to say something extremely philosophical that would be far too confusing considering the time, but eventually, she simply sighed and let her arm go limp and lightly hit the tabletop with a thud. “That  _ is  _ a fair point.”

“Indeed it is.” Will replied as he folded his arms, and attempted to keep the smug expression off his face, which proved to be extremely difficult when Mike glanced at him with an apologetic look and Will could only assume it was because he looked after him the most out of all of them. 

To be fair to Mike, he had a little too much to drink. Heck, Will was surprised he was up and ready this early, but there he was. He wondered if he remembered the things he said the night before, and he couldn’t decide whether it would be a good thing or a bad thing. Remembering, that is. All the memories that had been slowly trickling back into his brain since he had woken up seemed to have filled him up and he remembered  _ everything.  _ If he was honest with himself, Will wished he could forget all the words they exchanged and the invisible touches, because having the urge to blush at 7am wasn’t a good experience and he surely wanted to go and bury himself back in the mound of blankets he knew was waiting for him on the floor of his bedroom. 

 

_ I guess we can’t always get what we want.  _

 

“Anyway, I really have to go.” Joyce piped up after a brief silence, turning to look at her son she placed a cold hand on the side of his face which was a sharp sensation in comparison to his warm cheeks. “Try not to argue too much and get to school on time, alright?”

Will nodded tiredly as she reached up slightly to place a kiss on his forehead, at this point Will was quite a bit taller than her so he even had to bend down a bit so she wouldn’t make a fool of herself. Most kids Will’s age would be embarrassed if their mom kissed them on the forehead in front of all their friends, but it was something he was used to, and his friends were used to it too. Joyce acted like a guardian to all of them a lot of the time, it was just what she did best. “Bye mom.”

“Bye Mrs Byers!” Dustin piped up, peeling his attention away from Lucas who was attempting to explain something to him, and when he looked away from him he just groaned and rolled his eyes in frustration; they all knew Dustin wasn’t one to pay attention to a lot of things. Lucas eventually gave up and sent a small wave to Joyce too, as the whole table followed suit and mumbled a variation of farewells.

She was almost out the door, her car keys dangling in the air somewhat chaotically as she waved, looking like she wanted to do anything but leave them all sat there in her kitchen. “Mrs Byers makes me sound old, call me Joyce!”

Everyone acknowledged this with a nod, except for Mike who spoke from his corner of the kitchen in a soft, isolated voice, saying: “Bye, Joyce.” 

She had almost closed the door behind her but she paused, and she looked at Mike with some sort of fondness and something else; Will couldn’t put his finger on it. Was it sympathy? No… It was more motherly, like the way she’d look at her two boys before their first day at school with their backpacks on their backs all ready to go - bright eyed and ready to learn. She looked at Mike as if she had known him for a lot longer than she actually had, which was confusing, and to Will, it was a strange development on Mike’s part - but he shrugged it off and decided that it was a positive thing.

It was weird to think how he was so reserved the first time he met her, not speaking a single word, and now he looked at her like he could trust her. Perhaps not fully, but it was certainly there, and Will could only assume that they’d had some time to talk to each other. About what, Will had no idea, and he wasn’t sure he exactly wanted to know, but the thought of Mike and his mom getting along gave him a strange sense of comfort that he didn't get with any of his other friends.

 

_ That’s because Mike’s different, you know that.  _

 

_ Says who? _

 

_ You know it’s true, Will. Stop denying it. _

 

By the time Will’s thoughts had subsided, he noticed that his mother had left the house and his friends had gone back to discussing something around the table - which could of been anything, knowing them; even at that time in the morning. He looked at Mike, who was still stood in front of the stove, filling up plates with all sorts of breakfast food he had made. Will frowned slightly at the sight of him, but shook his head slowly and smiled to himself before tiptoeing around the edge of the table so he could stand next to him, where his mother was standing a few moments before. Instead, he found a clear part of the counter and placed his coffee cup down before pushing himself up and sitting down there. Clearly, he did this because there were no seats left so the counter would have to suffice, but it was also the perfect spot to see Mike. Not that it mattered, of course. 

Mike clearly knew Will was there, but he seemed to be trying his best to not acknowledge it. Will peered down to try and catch his eye, and took a long sip out of his coffee that had found its way back between his palms. “What’re you makin’?”

Mike glanced up for a moment, looked down like he had forgotten what he was making and he had to check exactly what he was doing, and then looked up again at Will. There was some sort of distance in his expression, like he wasn’t really there, like he was still dreaming. It was a look Will had seen before, but it just seemed a little bit different that day. 

He flicked the stove off with a click, and grabbed the handle of the pan that had a few fried eggs in it, pushing them off with a spatula onto different plates that already had toast on. “Just some breakfast stuff.”

Will didn’t realise how hungry he was until he saw the plates full of food, he suddenly felt complete emptiness in his stomach and noted that the last time he ate was yesterday afternoon when he and Max were sharing the bag of tortilla chips. “Why?” 

“Felt like it.” Mike shrugged.

Will tried to do what he always did when he was in the presence of Mike, which was essentially attempting to assess his mood. He didn’t like that he seemed to automatically do it every time they were together, but he felt like he had to, because every day was different with Mike. He’d even change through the day sometimes, and Will would find himself noticing different moods and getting different impressions from him constantly - sometimes it was too difficult to keep up with. He often thought about this so called  _ angry  _ version of Mike that everyone but himself seemed to know about, and the fact that he’d never seen it.

By the end of the day, Will would realise he had thought too soon. 

He finished off the remaining puddle of coffee that was at the bottom of his mug, the liquid slightly cold now, but he braved it anyway and then placed his empty mug on the kitchen counter beside him before folding both of his hands in his lap. “You didn’t have to do any of this, you know.”

Mike shrugged again, and Will got the urge to tell him to stop it. He looked like he was debating his words for a few moments. “Consider it a thank you.”

Will frowned. “For what?”

“A lot of things, I guess.” Mike suggested, resting his palms on the counter in front of the plates of food, as if he was deciding which one would best suit each person. 

Will tried not to sigh, but he let it out anyway. He couldn’t deny that he disliked how much Mike felt like he had to thank him, or clean up behind himself all the time. He was like one of those people who carefully and patiently pushed through a crowd to get where they were going, and would suffer being late if they got stuck behind someone particularly slow. “Mike, I told you, you don’t-”

Mike looked at Will sternly, and he knew what that look meant. It was a  _ we’ve been through this  _ kind of look. Will knew what Mike meant, and he knew why he wanted to say it. He was no psychologist but he knew well enough that people who felt the need to constantly apologise and say thank you for trivial things must’ve been through some things they didn’t deserve in the past. 

“I do, now please…” Mike sighed, and then picked up one of the plates, holding it out to Will. He was smiling now, a genuine smile, one that Will would do anything to see every day. “Take a fucking plate.”

Will tried to keep a stern face for a few moments, but looking at Mike he couldn’t help but break out into a smile. One of those smiles where you’re using all of your strength to not give in, but whoever is stood in front of you has just got one of those faces you just can’t ignore. They don’t even have to say anything, they just have to be there, and suddenly you’re smiling like the world’s number one idiot. Will shook his head slowly and took the plate out of Mike’s hands. 

“Thank you.”

Mike only nodded before grabbing two more plates and placing them on the table where his friends were all gathered, too busy engrossed in other conversations to notice the words and glances that had been exchanged by Mike and Will at all. Which Will was thankful for, because  _ god knows  _ what they’d tease him about later.

 

_ Not that there’s anything to tease about.  _

 

“I mean, are you  _ sure  _ about that?” Dustin said loudly, and Will looked up with wide eyes, immediately thinking he had spoken all of his thoughts out loud and Dustin was responding to him - but he relaxed when he saw that he wasn’t even looking at him, he was looking at Lucas; in a completely different conversation. 

 

_ I’ve gotta stop getting lost in my own fucking head.  _

 

“Holy shit, I needed this.” Max spoke with a mouth full of toast, and Will would’ve told her she was being disgusting, but he didn’t want to get drop kicked at seven in the morning. “Thanks, Mike.”

Mike mumbled some sort of response to Max’s comment, and by the time Will had resurfaced out of his own ocean of thoughts he saw that everyone was eating their food and he was just sitting there, holding it in his lap. He looked at Mike, who was starting to clean up all of the pots and pans he had used. Will was about to tell him that he didn’t have to do it, but he’d probably just give Will that look again and tell him that he wanted to. He also noticed that Mike hadn’t made any food for himself, he immediately frowned and then glanced at him, noting how he suddenly looked completely oblivious to the outside world. He’d done his work, now he had removed himself from the room. Well, not literally, but he suddenly seemed to be trying his absolute best to become invisible. 

Maybe he felt as if he didn’t really have a place within the group of friends, and that made Will feel awful, because he always assumed he was responsible for things like this. He knew that everyone was doing their best to make him feel as welcome as possible, but it was like he wasn’t responding at all. To an extent, he seemed to be getting more comfortable with them, but to Will it seemed that he had a reluctance to go any further. Which was fair, but he hated the idea of Mike thinking he was some sort of spare part. He deserved to feel a part of something.

Or maybe feeling like he was a part of whatever he had with Will was good enough. 

“Remember when Will tried to cook breakfast that one time and it was just an absolute disaster.”

Suddenly, Will was tuned into the conversation that was happening around the dinner table, and he could still hear Mike messing around with the washing up in the background, but he focused on the other voices as a way to clear his thoughts.

“I totally don’t remember that.” Will chipped in, balancing his plate on the palm of his right hand and picking up a piece of toast from it with his left.

“It was just toast, I think.” El added, pulling her knees up to her chest and holding them there with her joined hands. 

Dustin lightly hit the table and tried to hold in a laugh. “Didn’t you set the toaster on fire or something?”

“Okay, now that’s a lie.” Will retorted, and then tried to address the whole room. “I promise I didn’t.”

“Doesn’t matter now, anyway. Because you’ve got Mike.” Dustin pointed out, and Will pushed away the urge to hit him or tell him to shut up.

“I-I’ve what? No I haven’t.” Will said defensively, but attempted to keep his cool. 

“You guys are friends, are you not?” Lucas questioned with a shrug. 

Will didn’t have to look in Mike’s direction to know that he was glancing at him. “Well… yeah. Of course.”

“Friends can make breakfast for each other!” Max added, and Will scowled at her because he knew exactly what they were all getting at in the first place. 

“Exactly. What were you thinking, Will?” Dustin looked smug, knowing he had put Will in a difficult situation. 

 

_ Sometimes I really fucking hate you guys. _

 

“I was thinking that you should fuck off.” 

“Alrighty, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this fine mornin’!” Dustin raised his hands in the air in faux surrender. 

“More like the wrong side of his floor.” Max jumped in, and Will was about to jump off the counter and smack the piece of toast out of her hand, but she kept talking. “I was gonna ask if I could borrow a pillow last night but when I went in you were already asleep on the floor, nice of you to let Mike have your bed.”

“The floor was comfy get off my back!” Will shrugged, and tried not to blush. He didn’t know why he’d be blushing anyway. What was there to blush about? “What about you guys? How did you guys sleep, huh?” He turned the conversation around so it no longer had to be focused on himself.

“Pretty good myself, William.” Dustin nodded, but then turned to glare at Lucas who was sat beside him. “Although i did wake up to Lucas all up in my personal space.”

“In my defence, you didn’t give me much room.”

“There was a fuck ton, you dipshit!”

As Dustin and Lucas began bickering, Will tuned out their voices until everything sounded like one huge blur or television static. He loved his friends, but he had to admit that they were extremely annoying when they’d keep going on about something that Will didn’t really want to hear, it was Max, Dustin and Lucas mostly. El kept to herself the most out of all of them, and only joined into conversations when she felt like it, and when she did, she suddenly had a whole lot to say. Will was aware he was annoying in his own way, too, so whenever he felt himself getting annoyed by any of them, he’d simply shrug it off and tune out. 

“How’s your hand?”

Will blinked and turned his head at the sound of a voice from next to his ear, and saw that Mike was leaning against the counter next to him, looking at his bruised hand that was holding the side of his plate. Will looked at it too, almost like he forgot it was even there in the first place, and suddenly it began to ache when he remembered. 

“Huh?”

“Your hand.” Mike nodded, peering at it closer. It was still bruised but it was nothing too dramatic, Will was pretty sure it would be able to heal itself.

“Oh… uh, it’s okay I guess. Kinda sore still but not too bad.” Will shrugged. 

“Bet the other guy has it way worse.” Mike smiled, and Will laughed lightly and shook his head.

 

_ If only you knew I punched him because he was talking shit about you. _

 

“How kind of you to say, Michael.” Will placed his plate down on the counter and dusted his hands off on his pyjama pants, thankful that the rest of their friends had yet again tuned out from their conversations. 

“My pleasure.” Mike said, mimicking the tone Will had spoken in. He didn’t say anything for a few moments, but when he spoke again, it made Will’s heart skip a beat. “You know, you talk in your sleep.”

“So I’ve been told.” Will nodded, remembering all the times where he’d woken up in the morning after sleepovers and all his friends had been laughing at him because of something he said. Or the when he was younger and his mom always used to tell everyone the things her son said in his sleep. Will wasn’t concerned at first, because he knew he usually rambled about random, pointless things, but when he saw Mike with a small but notable smirk on his face, he began to worry. “Why are you smiling like that? What did I say?”

“Oh, don’t worry your little head about it, William. Don’t you worry at all.” Mike shook his head with a smile, and before Will could protest, he looked at him right in the eyes like some sort of excited puppy. “Studying later, yeah?”

Will almost had no idea what he was talking about, but he remembered Mike had an important test soon and he promised to help him study. Like he always did, of course, they had a little routine of which days they would do it and when, meaning that they saw an awful lot of each other - not that either of them were complaining. 

“Yeah, uh… sure.”

Will was left with a worry in his stomach about what he could’ve possibly said in his sleep to make Mike look like… that. He almost looked like how Will felt when he first saw him in his Halloween costume the night before - a bit, overwhelmed?

 

_ Looks like I’m never sleeping again.  _

 

-

 

The day had been strange, to say the least.

Will was in a weird mood, and he knew exactly what it was. It was just one of those days where it was a lot harder to forget certain things and they’d be constantly circling around in his mind like a steam train with no breaks. As he told his therapist once, it was one of his grey days - essentially, grey days were days where he just felt a little bit empty and a little bit like he was completely useless. Will often found solace in being able to help others, and when he felt like he couldn’t, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He was well aware that it was his coping mechanism, and he confided in other people to forget about his own issues, but on grey days he felt like the world was against him and it wanted him to remember. It didn’t want him to take his mind off it, it wanted to sit him down in front of a television screen replaying all of his bad memories, hold open his eyes and say  _ remember what you did, remember when you really fucked up.  _

He hadn’t been able to focus on his school work at all, he felt like everyone was staring at him, burning holes right through his head. Disgusted looks scattered about the hallways, because Will knew that they knew - he knew it was something they all knew but didn’t talk about. He knew what they thought of him, because sometimes they were exactly the things he thought of himself. He’d heard it all before, over and over, and most of the time Will didn’t give a single shit. But sometimes, on days like this, he felt that sinking feeling inside his chest and he felt guilt between every single layer of his skin - his head pounded with grief and it took every inch of whatever willpower he had left to not slam his fist into a brick wall. 

It always started with doubt, just one little thought in his mind and then everything would start to change. He could doubt a lot of things, in the past it had been the fact that his friends actually  _ wanted  _ to be friends with him. That one had happened a lot, he didn’t think it all the time because deep down he knew his friends would do anything for him and he would gladly do the same - but the grey days got him into that mindset, telling him that they never liked him and they were just friends with him out of sympathy. He even doubted his own mother once, and that was on one of the really bad days. Sat at the dining table, her not talking to him, and truly he knew that she was just tired - but his thoughts seemed to consist of:  _ she hates you, you’re an embarrassment of a son, she knows it’s your fault. Everything that’s ever gone wrong is your fault.  _

He felt completely fine in the morning, but it seemed to hit him halfway through one of his classes, and he had to grip the edge of his desk to stop himself from falling out of his chair. That day, it was different, because that day he started to doubt Mike. It was a single moment, he turned in his chair and saw Mike sitting behind him and he just had this look on his face that made Will want to burst into tears or something completely ridiculous. He knew it wasn’t anything to do with him, because Mike always looked as melancholy as he did that day, but the switch in Will’s brain was turned on and in an instant his heartbeat picked up in speed and everything was telling him that Mike knew all the bad things about Will and that he would never  _ ever  _ forgive him. 

And somehow, this grey day was one of the worst yet. 

It got to a point where his head started to ache, and he told himself he could cope with it, but eventually he was pretty sure he was on the verge of passing out. Halfway through his art class he quickly asked his teacher if he could be excused to go and get some water, and she only had to look at his colour-drained face for a moment before she briskly nodded and encouraged him to go on his way. Will quietly thanked her and stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind him. Having escaped from the low hum of noise from the classroom, he was suddenly left in a bubble of silence that he wasn’t sure if he appreciated or not. 

He stopped for a moment, looking down the long hall that seemed to extend forever. Posters on the wall reading things from  _ get your tickets to the winter dance! _ to  _ you’re not alone in Hawkins High, arrange an appointment with the guidance counselor.  _ And really, it was only the first day of November and the winter dance was a long time away, and the guidance counselor quit her job the last school year and they hadn’t bothered to replace her. Will thought it was all bullshit, because even though you were surrounded by so many people in that goddamn high school, it was one of the loneliest places on the planet and no one gave a single shit if you had issues. You’d think that if there was one incident, then they’d pull their shit together and at least  _ try  _ to make some sort of difference to the rest of the kids in the school, but ultimately…

 

_ Nothing ever fucking changes.  _

 

Will began walking to the bathroom before he got the urge to tear all of the old posters off the walls, making the sound of his own footsteps loud enough to distract himself on the way there. When he pushed the door open, he didn’t expect to see Mike Wheeler sat on the windowsill - feet pulled up to his chest and exhaling a lungful of smoke out of the partially open window. He hadn’t seen Will yet, who stopped abruptly halfway into the room. He wanted to turn around and leave Mike, he wanted to just walk out and hide somewhere else - but there they both were. Back at the place where they first met, back to square one. 

He didn’t know how long he was stood there before he started talking, the words tumbled out of his mouth before he had time to think about what he was even saying. “What are you doing?”

“What the fuck does it look like I’m doing?” Mike immediately snapped back, not looking at Will yet. He almost jumped at how loud Mike spoke, and wanted to back up into the wall behind him. He’d never heard Mike raise his voice like that before, and if Will was honest with himself he wasn’t quite sure how to react. He felt his heart sink, and it was almost like  _ this  _ moment was the confirmation of everything Will had been thinking during the day up until this point. 

Will searched for something to say, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water, desperately trying to hang on. He was frozen in place and had to bring himself back to reality by blinking quickly and shaking his head. “Jesus- okay. What’s the matter?”

Mike was about to retort with something again, but he turned to look at the boy stood on the other side of the room who looked just as confused as he felt. “Shit I’m- I’m sorry, Will, I’m just-” Upon noticing that he was there, Mike quickly stubbed out the cigarette on the outside of the windowsill. Will could only guess that Mike smoked when he was stressed, or when whatever he was going through fluctuated and felt worse. Either way, Will didn’t particularly like it, but he didn’t say that out loud. “I’m just fucking pissed off.” 

“Why?”

Rather than answering his question, Mike rested his head on the wall behind him and looked up towards the ceiling. “Isn’t it so weird how you can feel like the whole world is out to get you, but you feel like no one gives a shit at the same time?”

 

_ I care, Mike. _

 

_ I care so much that it fucking hurts. _

 

“What are you talking about?” Will asked, and it was the only thing he could manage to say. He understood what Mike meant, he probably understood it better than most people. It was middle ground, but it was a middle ground that no one should want to be on. 

Mike shook his head, dark curls falling in front of his eyes despite looking upwards. “It doesn’t matter.”

Will stepped forward then, just a single step. “It does matter, Mike.” His voice was as soft and as patient as he could manage, and he tried to tell him that he understood without having to say it out loud. 

“I said it doesn’t  _ fucking _ matter, okay?” He raised his voice again, filling up the bathroom with an uncomfortable feeling that stopped Will in his tracks.

 

_ This isn’t him.  _

 

_ He’s just in one of his moods. _

 

Will didn’t say anything straight away, leaving them in a silence like no other. Silences between them had grown to be comforting ones, where they felt like they didn’t  _ have  _ to say anything and everything would be okay, but this time Mike had built his wall back up and there was no way that Will could get past it. 

“Was it Mr Daniels again?” Will was grasping at straws here, not exactly knowing what to say was a feeling he didn’t like to be familiar with. He was trying, he really was, and he knew that he couldn’t kick himself later on for not saying something when he should have and he shouldn’t blame himself for these things - but it was never that easy. 

“I guess. He just tipped me over the edge.” Mike sighed. 

Will could understand that, but he knew there was something else, something that Mike wasn’t telling him. Of course, Will knew he had no obligation to tell him, but he wanted to at least try. “And what was bothering you before that?”

“A whole lot of fucking bullshit, Will.” Mike almost laughed, like someone who laughed at something because it was so incredibly  _ fucked up  _ that the only thing there was left to do was laugh about it. “The lot of it is bullshit.”

“Well, if you could at least talk to me about it maybe I could-”

“No, Will! I don’t want to fucking talk about it, alright? I don’t have to fucking tell you everything! Will you just get off my back for  _ once?  _ You just won’t understand, no one fucking understands!”

And that was the first time Mike snapped. 

The first time he really lost it in front of Will. The room became dead silent, and Will didn’t know what on earth to do with himself. He never thought he’d ever see Mike yell like that before, especially towards him, but there he was. Will got that sinking feeling again, that real heart wrenching feeling and the dread between every single bone in his body. It was almost inhuman, it made Will feel incredibly small and provided the undeniable urge for him to shrink even further and maybe disappear into a nearby void. Hearing Mike shout, hearing Mike get really  _ angry  _ like that, at the time, was something Will thought he would never get over. 

“Mike, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“That’s what  _ everyone  _ says. And it always ends the same way. I’m fucking done!” Mike was visibly breathless now, and Will wasn’t sure if it was turning into some sort of panic attack or not, and if it was, he wasn’t sure he knew exactly how to deal with it. 

“Please calm down, Mike.” Will said desperately, trying to bring himself to step forward again, but he just couldn’t face it. “This isn’t like you.”

Will didn’t remember when Mike decided to get down the windowsill and start pacing at the opposite end of the bathroom, but there he was, breaths shallow and panicked but also angry and full of frustration. He seemed perfectly fine that morning, that’s what confused Will the most, but he was well aware how quickly his own mood could change; so because of that, he somewhat understood. But now he was worried, heck, he was scared. He was scared for what Mike would come out with next, because Will already felt like he was the world’s worst friend. 

Mike clearly attempted to calm his breathing, and then stopped in his tracks. He looked like he knew what he said had crossed some sort of line, and he instantly regretted it. He turned towards Will, who could tell with every passing moment that he was slowly breaking down. “That’s the thing, Will. This  _ is  _ me. This is the me that I’ve been trying to keep from you for  _ so  _ long. And now I’ve fucked it up. I’m such a fucking-”

He stopped talking, and he looked at Will like he was sorry, like he was  _ really  _ sorry; and Will just wanted to pull him into his arms and tell him everything would be okay. But there was the space between them, like they couldn’t move to be there for each other. Will couldn’t do anything other than use his words, and he wasn’t the best with them. Mike was clearly still breathless and panicking, on the verge of tears when he so reluctantly looked at Will in the eyes.

“You’re not-” Will started, but he really couldn’t find any words. He could find some, just not the right ones, and he didn’t want the situation to be more messed up than it already was. 

Mike shut his eyes for a moment and breathed out shakily, fists clenched at his sides, so hard that it looked like he was about to make his palms bleed. “I-I should go I’m- I’m sorry.” He mumbled, more to himself, before looking around and grabbing his backpack off the floor. “See you for uh… tutoring later.”

Suddenly he was gone, leaving Will in silence and shock, not being able to fathom what on earth just happened.

 

-

 

The cul-de-sac was pretty much desolate by the time Will’s car stopped in front of Mike’s house, or rather, parked his car on the side of the road opposite Mike’s house. As the engine was stopped and the sound of David Bowie’s voice playing from a mixtape was immediately cut off, the two of them were left in a deafening silence that was almost painful. Perhaps too much for either of them to bear, neither of the boys spoke for a stupid length of time, nor did Mike make a move to get out of the car - because it still felt like something needed to be said, something needed to be left right. They couldn’t leave it like this until the next time they saw each other, he didn’t know about Mike but Will knew that about himself for sure. It would drive him absolutely crazy, he’d constantly be thinking that he’d done something wrong, or that there was something more to the few words that Mike had spoken to him that day. 

The entire time that they were studying, Mike didn’t speak a single word. He just sat at Will’s kitchen table, hunched over his paper, slowly working on his studies and doing whatever he could to avoid looking Will in the eye or talking to him at all. The part in Will’s brain telling him he had done something wrong was slowly fizzling out and he begun to understand that Mike had let Will see a side of himself that he didn’t want him to see. He remembered all the times where he had mentioned it before, or heard other people mention it, and he didn’t quite believe it until he saw it. Mike  _ could _ get angry, and Will had a feeling that what happened in the bathroom was one of his milder outbursts so god knows how he would act if he got  _ really _ angry. He seemed somewhat ashamed, elbow resting on the table and fingers shoved into his hair so he could keep himself looking down and looking down only. Occasionally nodding when Will would mumble that he’d gotten something a little wrong, or breathing out a small sigh when he’d realised he’d made a mistake. 

It felt as if though all the time they had know each other, Mike had been trusting Will more and more, meaning he’d tell him things that were bothering him when they were bothering him. Will felt like they were making progress, but as it turns out, stuck in this dead silence bubble of a car - they were back to square one. Right back to that very first day where Will asked all the questions and Mike gave minimal answers. It was almost heartbreaking to think over all the times where Will thought that Mike had become a little more trusting, a little more happy, and now it was like all of that had gone down the drain never to be seen again. 

Will knew he was being extremely pessimistic about the whole situation and Mike was most likely just having one of his off days, but this seemed so far from that. His face said it all, really. It wasn’t like he was sad, it was just like he was empty; like all emotion in him had come to a stop and he had been left with the shell of the person who he once was. He looked numb - eyes not focused but somehow fixed on the dashboard in front of him, hands in his lap completely still and unmoving, his breaths seemed shallow but automatically controlled. He looked like he had seen something that had put him into shock, like someone needed to grab him by the shoulders and yell at him to wake up.

But all Will could do was just sit there and listen to the silence that would break him.

The fluidity of their conversations and the gazes that spoke a thousand words had been halted by an invisible wall that seemed to cut the car in half. Will begged himself to say something, because he always knew what to say…  _ Come on, Will. Fucking say something. You’ve gotta say something _ ; but he couldn’t. He was completely lost, and confused for the most part. Thinking over what Mike had said to him and more concerningly  _ how  _ he said it, Will thought it would be more wise if he were to keep his mouth shut. 

So he did, and surprisingly, Mike decided to speak first. “Will, I-” He started, and then sighed with a hint of frustration towards himself. He tried to look at Will, and looked back to his lap a few times, it was like he couldn’t bear it. His voice was so incredibly quiet Will had to make sure he didn’t imagine it. “I’m sorry.”

Will looked at him now, he looked so incredibly tired and drained of every ounce of energy that he could possibly have. He knew Mike looked tired most of the time, but on this occasion he looked like he hadn’t slept one bit for several days. It appeared that trying to carry out his normal human functions was a chore for him, like he had to think about breathing to remember to breathe, and talking took more effort than it was worth, but he was trying. He was trying because he knew Will deserved better than the mess he was causing. Will, of course, would immediately disagree. It was at that point he realised he could never really hate Mike, even if he tried. He didn’t want to speak louder than Mike did, so he matched his voice. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

Mike shook his head slowly, and then squeezed his eyes shut as if that very small action had caused him a migraine. “I do, so… please just…” 

“What’s really bothering you, Mike?” Will started, leaning forward slightly in an attempt to get Mike to look at him. “At least tell me that.”

“I can’t.” Mike replied almost instantly as if it was something he had told so many people a million different times before.“I just… I can’t.” 

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not ready for you to know, okay?” This was when Mike looked at him, and Will could tell just by his expression that he was desperate for him to just drop the subject and talk about it another time, and this was him confirming that there actually was something more to know. Of course, there’s always something more to know about everyone, but with Mike it just seemed that little bit different. His eyes were filled with a desperation that Will suddenly understood, but what he didn’t understand, was why there had to be a certain moment where Mike had to be completely  _ ready  _ to tell him something; but he wouldn’t argue with him. He would wait as long as he wanted, because Will would want him to do the same for him. 

Will did want him to do the same for him. 

“Okay. Okay, I understand. Sorry.” Will nodded quickly, and wanted to kick himself because of the chaotic way he was speaking. 

Mike glanced at Will with raised eyebrows, and repeated what Will had said to him before. “ _ You’ve  _ got nothing to be sorry for.” 

“Sometimes I do.”

“Not today.”

After Mike had spoken the two of them were left in a brief silence yet again, and it was comforting now, almost like they had reached a comfortable point in their middle ground that they always seemed to safely find peace on. It didn’t take much for them to come back to each other, and to figure things out. They were always good at talking things through, and even though they didn’t know exactly everything about each other, they had both found someone who understood without having to hear the words out loud. Will didn’t realise the importance of having someone like that in his life until Mike walked into it. 

And now he couldn’t quite imagine his life without him. 

No… He didn’t  _ want  _ to imagine his life without him. 

“Listen…” Will started, his paranoia getting the better of him. He kept looking down towards his hands now, playing with his fingers. “Did you, uh… did you really mean what you said back there? About-”

“I didn’t.” Mike cut him off, speaking slightly louder. Will didn’t have to say what he meant, because Mike already knew, and he’d already been feeling awful about it since the moments in the school bathroom. Will believed him, because he was sure he had never seen someone look as guilty as Mike did in his life. “I swear to you, I really didn’t. And I’m sorry.”

Will nodded to himself, and let a small smile play on his lips. “We’ve really gotta stop apologising when there’s nothing to apologise for.”

“It’s what most humans do, I guess.” Mike shrugged, not arguing that he needed to apologise to Will for how he acted, even though he really wanted to. “Well, mostly the fucked up ones.” 

He let out a light laugh then,  _ music to my ears,  _ Will thought. 

“I guess you’re right.” Will smiled, shaking his head. He let his thoughts linger for a moment within the pause, and his smile dropped ever so slightly. “But honestly, if you ever want me to like, leave you alone-”

Suddenly Mike’s hand was right on top of Will’s and Will’s heart was in the bottom of his stomach.

“No, please. Please don’t.” Mike spoke in a panic, eyes looking right towards Will now. He couldn’t look back at him, though. His eyes were firmly fixed on the sight of Mike’s hand and his underneath, he stared at his painted black fingernails that had chipped off over the course of the day and he pushed away the urge to just hold onto him. “I was just- I really didn’t mean that. It was just… one of my _ moods _ . Please just… don’t leave.” 

“O-Okay.” It took a few moments for Will to speak, and when he did it was pretty much coughed up from his lungs in a desperate to communicate like a normal human being. “I promise I won’t.” 

Suddenly, Will felt more needed than he ever had over the course of his whole life. The way Mike was looking at him was so painfully heartwarming, if that was even possible, and every word he spoke told Will that Mike valued him a ridiculous amount. The doubt in the back of Will’s mind was completely washed away by the gesture of his hand alone, and there he felt the memory of the night before, when Mike asked him to hold his hand, and he did… and he never wanted to let go.

The two of them were connected by this point, two halves of a whole, if you will. No matter where they were, they always felt like they had a place when they were with each other, and that scared them both more than it should’ve. They were both aware there were things that were always left unsaid, or things they couldn’t bear to say… but they’d get around to it. For the moment, what they had was good enough. 

Even though Will knew that friends shouldn’t feel the way he felt about Mike, and there was always that dreadful feeling where he wanted something more and he really,  _ really  _ wished he didn’t. 

And he really,  _ really  _ wished Mike didn’t awkwardly pull his hand back leaving Will’s in the cold. 

“I should probably uh… get back.” He stumbled over his words and brought his hand to scratch the back of his neck like a nervous habit. Will didn’t say anything about it, he only pulled his hand back towards his lap.

“Will they be annoyed at you?” Will asked, looking past Mike and at his house across the street. 

“Probably, so I uh… don’t wait around or anything, just in case, you know?” Mike began fumbling with his seatbelt because he hadn’t get taken it off, and when he did he gathered his things and opened the car door, letting in a wave of cold air that chilled Will right down to the bone.

“Sure.” Will nodded as Mike climbed out the car, and he stopped for a moment like he was deciding whether or not he should something else. 

Eventually, he spoke quietly as if his words could potentially ruin everything. “See you tomorrow, Will.”

“Bye, Mike.”

Will watched him cross the street, telling himself he’d leave when he saw Mike get to the door. But he didn’t, he just watched, and he waited, for far longer than he should have.

Will saw two things that Mike didn’t want him to see that day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry for the wait you guys, my shitty life just kept getting in the way. but here it is!! extra long and juicy, hope you enjoyed it!!!


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